Lost & Found Treasure
by Velvet Storm
Summary: Elizabeth has been alone for 3 years when Barbossa invites her to join his crew bound for the Colonies. What do the inked marks on her wrist mean? Why does Barbossa have Letters of Marque? And how will an intimate moment from the past affect their future?
1. Pirate Invitation

_"By the sweat of our brow, and the strength of our backs, and the courage in our hearts; Gentlemen, hoist the colors."_

Never had braver words been spoken by a pirate. And not by just _a_ pirate, but by _the_ pirate king. And not just _any_ king, but by a _female_ king who – just two years previous – had been naught but a well-heeled, mollycoddled governor's daughter bound for a suffocating life of societal restrictions and obligations. Captain Hector Barbossa, Pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea, thought it was worth noting that a different version of her statement had been uttered by him when the pirate lords had gathered at Shipwreck Cove, but the fact that she'd thought enough of his words to use them in her motivating speech before they'd defeated Beckett made them far more compelling. It was a rare moment where he'd been flattered.

Barbossa snorted and shook his head as he thought of her. In his forty-eight years upon the earth, never had he seen such a drastic change in a woman. His experience had been 'once spoiled, always spoiled', but that was not so with Elizabeth Swann-Turner, Pirate King. Though raised as a proper lady by her father in Port Royal (with reluctant adherence to propriety on her part), Barbossa surmised that she'd been born with pirate blood coursing through her privileged veins.

Port Royal. Instantly, Barbossa remembered the night almost seven years ago that he'd first met Elizabeth. Even now, he still wondered how it came to be that out of all the young people there, it was _she_ that had been brought to him. He had not told his crew to fetch "the governor's daughter" – nor anyone else in the household – and yet, there she'd stood on his deck with her hair all done up, wearing nothing but her shift in the damp night air. Most young women would have been incensed over being seen without their stuffy corsets and billowing petticoats, but he remembered how oblivious Elizabeth had seemed to her state of undress; a fact that all of the crew had thoroughly enjoyed. He hadn't allowed them any liberties, of course. He was a ruthless pirate, yes, but he never took a woman's pleasures by force – coercion perhaps, but never force – nor did he allow his crew to. The last man to commit such an act had been severely keelhauled.

As Barbossa reclined in his bed on the _Imperial_ - a sturdy yet resplendent frigate that he'd willingly traded the _Pearl_ back to Sparrow for - he recalled with fond amusement the only time that Elizabeth had ever screamed in fear of him. Still under that Aztec curse, he'd just finished watching as she'd ravenously torn into the dinner that he'd had prepared especially for her. He'd told her about the curse, but she hadn't believed him, so he'd decided to show her. He'd pushed her out to the main deck, where the crew had been working in the moonlight so that she could see proof of the curse for herself. Barbossa chuckled out loud. He'd enjoyed her screams at the time, and he'd been amused by them, but they were to be the last that he'd hear from her. He had to admit that he admired her fortitude.

Barbossa sighed as he allowed his thoughts to meander on. Truth was there was much that he admired about her. Yes, Elizabeth was brash, but she was no simpleton. She was a smart lass; smart to the point of being scary. She was also the only person he knew that had gotten the better of Sparrow – no one else had ever managed it, not fully. Elizabeth, with her womanly wiles, had managed to catch the shifty pirate with his guard down, successfully securing him to the ship in shackles as the Kraken had prepared for its attack. Barbossa laughed heartily at that particular memory; it was one of his favorites.

His least favorite memory, however, was marrying her to Turner. Barbossa understood love, and he understood loneliness, and he knew that Elizabeth now experienced both, which was not a desired combination. No young woman in love was happy alone, and that was the main reason why he regretted marrying them. There had been no way of telling that Jones was going to stab Turner, though, but she was still a newlywed without a husband. After all she'd done for their lot, she didn't deserve that fate. Of course, there was also the fact that his admiration bordered on wanting said lonely newlywed for himself because, truthfully, she was too adventurous – too cunning – to ever be fully satisfied with the veracious and boring whelp, but he tried to push those indecorous longings away because only a fool tested the water with both feet, and he was no fool.

"Hi yeh, Jack," Barbossa greeted when his monkey jumped onto the bed. "Ready to visit the Pirate King?" Jack jumped up and down, clapping his furry hands. "Good boy. We certainly couldn't sail right by and not offer our respects to the king, now could we?" Jack shook his head and screeched while Barbossa chuckled. "Off to bed with yeh then. We rise early in the morn."

As Jack jumped off the bed to curl up on his silk pillow on the floor, Barbossa blew out the candle in the metal lantern that hung on the wall beside the bed and settled himself between the sheets. He had to admit to himself that he was rather curious to see what had transpired in Elizabeth's life over the past three years. He genuinely hoped that she was happy because she truly deserved it.

* * *

><p>"Lizzy, why don't you take me <em>Pillager<em> over to Ap Lei today?" Captain Teague suggested as he sipped Turkish coffee from a black jack, having watched the young lady wander aimlessly around Shipwreck Island for the past two days (which seemed to be all she ever did). "Go fetch yourself some pretty silks from the market."

Elizabeth smiled at Jack's father. She'd spent the past three years getting to know the salty pirate, and she'd quickly discovered where Jack had gotten his quirky personality from. When Teague had invited her to live on Shipwreck Island after Will returned to the _Flying Dutchman_, she'd agreed because she had nowhere to call home since her father was gone. Actually, Teague had become a father figure to her, as of late, and she'd grown to care for him a great deal. They'd spent hours together, talking and sharing stories, and they'd developed a close friendship. He was also the only one that was allowed to call her 'Lizzy'.

"I was just over there last month," Elizabeth answered with a shrug. "I don't really feel like it, anyway." Pretty silks wouldn't fill the emptiness inside of her. The trips to Ap Lei had been fun the first year or so, but she had little desire to go anymore. Every time she stepped onto the deck of the _Pillager_, it was just a painful tease of what she used to have.

Teague flashed his lop-sided, gold-toothed grin her way. "Well, you _are_ the king. I suppose you can do what you want, aye?"

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "Aye, 'tis true," she agreed, her voice devoid of any enthusiasm. "For now, I think I'll just head down to the shore and enjoy the sunrise."

"Won't make the years pass no quicker, Lizzy," Teague remarked, his deep voice a raspy growl as he drank more coffee. She practically lived on the shores of Shipwreck Island, and he wished that there was something he could do for her.

It wasn't the first time that Teague had made that comment, and she figured it probably wouldn't be the last.

"I know."

* * *

><p>Elizabeth lumbered along the shoreline in her blouse and breeches, digging her bare toes into the wet, grainy sand with each saturnine shuffle of her feet. Life was just awful. She was the Pirate King, but what good was it? The East India Trading Company had been defeated, and it would be some time before it could be re-established – though she hoped it never was. She'd considered pirating, but somehow it just didn't have enough appeal for her. Everyone that she'd known had gone their separate ways, and she was left in a sort of void not knowing where she belonged. She was the Pirate King with no ship or crew. She was a wife with no husband. She was a daughter with no father. More often than not, she felt utterly lost and just wandered about; so much was missing from her life.<p>

Some days, she couldn't believe that three years had passed, and other days, it seemed as if it had been twice as long. She hadn't been this melancholy the entire time, though. Understandably, she'd been sad for a while after Will left, but she'd snapped out of it after a few days. Initially, she'd kept herself busy with getting to know Teague, reading through the Code (it really was _quite _thorough) and scoping out Shipwreck Island.

Elizabeth had been thrilled when Teague began offering her his boat so that she could sail to Ap Lei and some other nearby ports. He'd given her plenty of gold coins to spend on whatever she'd wanted, and at first, her shopping sprees had brought her joy. Over time, however, she'd lost her enthusiasm for them. She'd bought new clothes, tried exotic foods and explored some of the foreign lands time and time again. She'd tried eavesdropping on conversations in local taverns in case she could catch any news about her previous crew mates, but she didn't understand most of the language and eventually gave up. The more trips that she took, the more she wanted to be at sea again. After her last visit to Ap Lei, she'd stayed in her room and had cried for two days.

And none of that compared to the horrific thing that she'd done during her first couple months on the near-deserted island, but Elizabeth refused to allow herself to think about that. She'd already shed tears over that, too, and she didn't fancy shedding more right now.

Her life was what it was, and short of returning to England (which she really didn't want to do), she had nowhere else to go, nor did she feel like going anywhere alone, so she just settled for counting the days until her husband's return.

Lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the orange blaze of the morning sun, Elizabeth noticed that a pinnace carrying two people was coming to shore. She saw the large ship in the distance, but it was too far away to tell who it belonged to. _Great_, she thought wearily. _Some more of Teague's relatives_. That man had more cousins than anyone she'd known, and they were always showing up unannounced. _At least it passes the time._

Elizabeth casually walked towards the barkadeer to greet the assumed family members, wondering if she'd met these previously. Some of Teague's family had been rather spirited carousers (as expected) and had caused quite a ruckus during their stay, while some others had been oddly subdued and well-mannered. One of them had been so intent on having Elizabeth that Teague had had to draw his pistol on him to get him to stop his amorous advances.

As the boat got closer, Elizabeth thought to herself that the men looked awfully familiar, but she knew that it couldn't be the two she was thinking of; last she'd heard, they were on their way back the Caribbean, and that had been over two years ago.

As the pinnace reached the dock, Elizabeth couldn't believe her eyes – it _was_ them! Her heart began to thump madly in her chest as a large smile spread across her face. She had no idea why they were there, but she was so happy that she didn't really care.

"Barbossa!" Elizabeth called out excitedly as she ran as fast as she could to the end of the dock. "Mr. Gibbs! Is it really you?" She prayed that this was not another dream because many had taunted her the past few months; when she actually slept, anyway.

"Aye, lass!" Barbossa exclaimed as he stood. "It be me last time I checked." He hadn't said anything to Gibbs as they'd sailed in, but he'd spotted Elizabeth on their approach and had watched her intently. Needless to say, he hadn't liked what he'd seen. Short of her slender figure and long hair, he hadn't recognized her slouched shoulders and listless movements at all. He'd never known Elizabeth to look so forlorn, and he mentally cursed himself (again) for marrying her to the whelp.

"It be me, as well," Mr. Gibbs confirmed with a big smile as he gathered the ropes for docking.

Barbossa stepped up on to the landing while his first mate secured the pinnace. Elizabeth couldn't stop herself from throwing her arms around the missed scallywag.

"It's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, inhaling the salty scent of the ocean spray that enveloped her. It was the perfume of those who sailed the seas, and she loved it.

Unprepared for Elizabeth's enthusiastic embrace and hesitantly putting his arms around her slim waist, Barbossa stammered, "Ah…well…it be good to see you, King Turner." He couldn't remember the last time that he'd been greeted with a hug (and such a fierce one at that) but he wouldn't deny that he liked it. He would have enjoyed a bit _more_ physical contact with her, to be honest.

Stepping back from Barbossa and meeting his unreadable eyes, she was still smiling. "Please," she said, quickly hugging Mr. Gibbs next, who felt only slightly less awkward than the captain had. "It's always Elizabeth. Will you two come up? Teague will be so surprised to see you! Do you have the same crew? Where are you headed? Oh, you must tell me what you've been up to and – "

"Whoa there, Missy," Barbossa interrupted as they walked while Mr. Gibbs chuckled at her youthful ardor. "One question at a time, aye?" He really wasn't sure what he'd expected at their arrival, but it hadn't been this exuberance. It made him wonder why he hadn't visited before now.

Elizabeth blushed, realizing that she sounded like an impetuous child instead of a pirate king. "Forgive me," she apologized with a sheepish smile as they headed towards the cove. "It's just been rather…quiet and uneventful around here lately."

"Thought for sure the Pirate King would be kept busy," Mr. Gibbs commented, noticing that she looked even thinner than the last time that he'd seen her. Didn't she ever eat? Personally, he'd always preferred women with a little meat on their bones.

Elizabeth shook her head at Gibbs' remark. "Not at all. Let's hurry inside. You two must tell me all about the past three years."

* * *

><p>After dinner, Teague, Elizabeth, Barbossa and Gibbs gathered around the large pockmarked table where all the pirate lords had convened previously; this meeting was much more pleasant, however.<p>

"And so there I was, hangin' upside down with the blasted cable pinnin' me ankle to the main boon," Mr. Gibbs was saying, his grog blossoms shiny and prominent. "It's the middle of the night, and I'm callin' out to anyone who can hear me to help me get down when little Jack comes climbin' over the lines and decides to mimic me, hangin' by one of his legs. Blasted monkey. When a couple of the crew finally got to me, they had a right good laugh at me expense and called to some others to come see before finally gettin' me down."

Barbossa chuckled at the memory and took a swig from his bottle of rum. "Teach yeh to climb up to the nest loaded to the gunwalls, aye?" he quipped.

Elizabeth laughed though she felt a pang of jealousy at the stories she'd listened to all day. She missed being at sea, and she really missed the crew; Barbossa's crew, specifically. They were an eclectic mix of seadogs, to be sure, but they were good men, and in some way, like a family to her; especially since she had none.

"And you remember Murtogg and Mullfoy?" Gibbs asked, waiting for Elizabeth to nod. "Since they've gone on account, they've proved to be right good pirates. Once the captain told 'em no prey, no pay, they ain't been the least bit shy 'bout plunderin'."

Elizabeth smiled fondly as she pictured the quirky men in her mind. "I always liked them," she commented. "I'm glad that they came around."

Teague stood up then as it was getting late. "Gentlemen and King," he addressed, dipping his head. "I must retire for the night. Captain, will you and Mr. Gibbs be stayin' on?"

"We had planned to stay in port a couple days as we got a bit of careenin' to do, and I figure this be the safest place," Barbossa explained. "If that be all right with the two of you, of course."

"That be up to the lovely king over there," Teague told them and disappeared to his cove flat, but not before subtlety indicating to Barbossa with a nod of his head that he wanted a word with him.

"Well, of course you can stay," Elizabeth replied, happy to have their company again. "Maybe I can even help." She'd do just about anything to get on a ship again.

"Nay," Barbossa said, winking at Gibbs. "The Pirate King does not careen ships."

Elizabeth's eyes enlarged. "What?" she exclaimed as she stood up ready to rant. "What sort of bilge is that? You know that I'm more than capable of…what's so funny?"

Barbossa and Gibbs were snickering.

"Had a bet with the captain over how quickly he could get you in a tiff," Gibbs explained sheepishly. "He won."

Elizabeth tried to be mad – wanted to be, even – but then she laughed; she'd missed the good-natured ribbing that was commonplace amongst the crew. "Oh, you're both awful. I should make the two of you walk one of the many planks around the cove."

"But yeh won't," Barbossa finished with a wink and a knowing smirk.

With a sigh, Elizabeth agreed. "Probably not. Besides, it's late. Follow me, and I'll show you to your rooms."

* * *

><p>After seeing the men to their quarters, Elizabeth knew that she wouldn't be falling asleep any time soon. Feeling rather melancholy, she decided to head back out to the shoreline; the sea always had soothed her sadness. It was good to see Mr. Gibbs and the captain again, but it depressed her at the same time, knowing they'd be leaving in a couple days. She felt left out, actually. Being the Pirate King was boring – truthfully – and she didn't know what to do with herself. Seven years might as well have been an eternity to her.<p>

Elizabeth thought about her old crew mates. Three years hadn't changed them too much. Gibbs looked as if he'd lost a little weight, and Barbossa…well the captain looked the same, except for his eyes. Usually full of spark, they now looked rather tired.

_Well_, Elizabeth reasoned. _The man must be close to fifty years old. It's understandable that he'd be a little tired. Being a pirate is not easy, even for the young._

But there was something else that Elizabeth recognized in Barbossa's eyes whenever they looked at each other. She tried to define it, but the only word that came close was camaraderie. They'd been through so much together – Isla de Muerta, Davy Jones' locker and the defeat of the East India Trading Company – and they'd spent hours together sailing and scheming. There was, however, one memory that came to mind every time she looked at Barbossa that caused her to feel something a little different than camaraderie, and she couldn't help but wonder if her presence brought the memory back in to his mind, as well.

_"Remove."_

_Elizabeth couldn't believe the request, and she looked at Barbossa with frantic desperation in her eyes. Surely the guard was not serious._

_"I assure you the lady has removed everything of offense," Barbossa told the Singaporean henchman. "Yeh be holdin' us up from more important matters, and Sao Feng will not take kindly to that."_

_"Remove, or neither of you go in."_

_Barbossa and Elizabeth glanced around, but there were no changing rooms, and he doubted that they'd be allowed to leave their current location, anyway. Apparently, she would have to change or the entire trip was for naught, and he had not traveled all that way for nothing. At the same time, he did not wish to see her humiliated._

_"I'll take off me jacket and hold it around yeh," he quietly offered. "There not be much room, but it's the most modesty that I can provide. We've no time to come up with a different plan. We must get in to see Sao Feng."_

_Elizabeth looked around again, and she quickly decided that his offer was her only option because she knew that time was of the essence. Some modesty was better than none, she reasoned._

_Chocolate met the color of the sea. "I have your word that you'll be a gentleman?"_

_Barbossa smirked. Even in their situation, he would not pass up an opportunity for treasure – even if it was only to look upon it._

_Leaning close so that only Elizabeth could hear him, Barbossa replied, "The way I see it, since I be the one keepin' all of those lecherous eyes off of yer womanly goods, it be only fair that I get somethin' in return for my trouble."_

_Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but she quickly closed it. She wanted to argue with him, but then what if rescinded his offer? She didn't like this – not one bit – but his one set of eyes was certainly the lesser of the evils in comparison to the numerous sets that were gawking at her. Bloody pirates._

_"Fine," she whispered through clenched teeth. "But I'm telling Will about this when we find him."_

_Elizabeth took off her few accoutrements while Barbossa shrugged his heavy coat off and held it around her like a curtain (ignoring the disappointed cat-calls from the surrounding guards). She had very little room in which to move, and she had to fold her arms against his chest where she stood to fit in the space he provided. She reminded herself that it was better than the alternative._

_Holding the robe that she was to change into with her teeth, Elizabeth unfastened her shirt, tugging the sleeves up one at time while pulling her arms down before letting the material fall to the floor, which brought whistles and jeers from her audience. Reaching for the robe, she struggled to keep herself covered and get the first arm in at the same time, twisting and turning against Barbossa as she tried to figure out the best way to accomplish her task without revealing everything. Given her confines, there really was no best way. When she lifted her eyes to his, she noticed that they were taking in all of her that they could, and she pursed her lips._

_"Scoundrel," Elizabeth whispered, fighting her embarrassment at the captain catching even a glimpse of her. No one except for the female maids that used to help her dress had ever seen any part of her more private areas. She was unnerved at the fact that Barbossa – of all people – was going to be the first man to see her. Truth be known, it terrified her. She kept her breasts covered as best she could, but she knew by the mischievous twinkle in his eyes that he'd seen more than she wanted him to see, and she inwardly groaned, dropping her head in shame. "This is so awful."_

_"I don't fancy any of these b__ilge rats being privy to yer womanly goods any more than you do," Barbossa quietly commented. He wasn't completely sure why he'd admitted that except maybe to try to ease her nervousness, but it was true nonetheless – he didn't want them to see any part of her._

_Elizabeth stilled her movements as she was completely caught off guard by his remark. While Barbossa's expression towards her made her feel like a piece of meat about to be pounced on by a pack of ravenous wolves, his tone sounded almost possessive. It surprised her, and she heard herself saying, "You sound almost protective of me, Captain."_

_Barbossa did not look away from Elizabeth__ even though she had called his bluff. He thought of five different ways to respond to her, but given their forced intimacy at the moment, he decided that she deserved a little honesty._

_"Just because I be a pirate don't mean I always want to share me treasure, lass," he told her with a wink. "Especially a treasure chest of that kind." He glanced down and back up to emphasize his point. She wasn't buxom by any means, but Barbossa had never been attracted to women who spilled out of their corsets. From the little he'd been able to see, Elizabeth's breasts were about the size of the Ashmead apples that he'd loved to eat as a kid, and he longed to take one in his hand now and have a nibble; the thought of swirling his tongue around her hardened peak made him salivate. _

_"Even treasure that's technically__ not yours?"_

_"It be in me care at the moment, so it's mine for now."_

_Barbossa's statement__s eased Elizabeth's trepidation, and for an instant, it was as if they were alone in the oriental bathhouse. He thought of her as treasure? And as 'his' treasure? She couldn't help but grin at his compliment, and that's when her embarrassment changed, but she couldn't say what it had changed into exactly. Her anger melted away as there was something rather exciting about Barbossa's hungry eyes upon her – something wonderfully exhilarating – and she relaxed her arms somewhat. She told herself not to ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue, but her sense of propriety always had been lacking._

_"So, I take it that you like what you see then if you're claiming possession of it?"_

_Barbossa stole another peek at her pert breasts and licked his parched lips; it had been too long for such indulgences. Unfortunately, this was neither the time nor the place to continue that type conversation, though if circumstances had been different, he would have gladly taken her to the nearest private room to see how quickly he could have made her a woman. "Aye, and if yeh keep tauntin' me with it, I'll be plunderin' me treasure as soon as we get outta this bathhouse. Now finish changin'."_

_Elizabeth was momentarily shocked at Barbossa's forthrightness, and she wasn't sure if he was serious or not. As she stared into his eyes that seemed to devour her whole, he made no attempt to hide his desire for her, and she knew that her face was bright red. The only other man to cause her to have such deviant thoughts had been Jack – and they had been 'very' deviant. _

_"Aye, Captain," she quietly replied as she quickly slipped the robe on, tied the sash securely around her waist and then dropped her breeches so that Barbossa could put his coat back on. They had an agenda, and she needed to focus on that and not the heat in the captain's eyes, though she couldn't deny that it made her wish for more of his attention._

_"Thank you," Elizabeth added and tried to avoid looking at the captain for some time._

That moment with Barbossa had burned itself into Elizabeth's brain. What started out as embarrassing had turned into something quite sensual, especially to her being inexperienced at the time, and though it had not been her choice, it had still been the first time that a man had looked upon her unclothed – or somewhat unclothed – with blatant lust in his eyes. A woman's initial sexual experience (even an awkward one) changed her – Elizabeth understood that now – and that moment had created a bond between her and the captain; it had changed the way that they'd interacted with each other afterwards. How could it not have?

Even earlier that day, when Elizabeth had looked into Barbossa's eyes, she was instantly taken back to that bathhouse, and she found herself hoping that he remembered it, too. Shaking her head to clear her misguided thoughts, Elizabeth told herself that she was just being silly. Captain Barbossa was a worldly man; he'd seen many women in varying states of undress over his lifetime, and he'd lusted after even more - she was just another one of the many, and she was certain that it had meant little to him.

She never did tell Will what had happened.

As she sat in the damp sand, Elizabeth listened to the waves crashing to the shore and sighed heavily. None of it mattered now, anyway. In a couple days, Barbossa and Gibbs would be gone, and she would return to being bored and alone.

"Yo ho, yo ho, some pirate's life for me," Elizabeth half-sang in sarcasm as she shook her head sadly.

* * *

><p>"Yeh wanted to see me, Captain Teague?" Barbossa asked when he caught up with Jack's father after slipping from his room.<p>

Teague was lounging on a settee in a small sitting room outside of his sleeping quarters while he cleaned his pistol. The room was hazy from a lit cigar, and it was filled with chests and other trinkets that he'd stolen over the years. "What be yer headin', Hector?"

When one was summoned by the Keeper of the Code, one answered whatever question said Keeper asked.

"The Colonies."

Teague nodded as he focused on the pistol; it was his favorite. "Piratin'?"

Barbossa smirked. "Of course."

Teague nodded again as he wiped the barrel down. "Did yeh come here to ask Lizzy to join yeh?"

Barbossa instantly understood what the older pirate was telling him, and he wasn't the least bit surprised. A twisted part of him was even glad. "She's been miserable, hasn't she?"

Teague's eyes lifted to Barbossa's then, and his solemn expression was telling. "Aye."

"Well, I'd be honored to have the king on me ship," Barbossa told the Keeper. He had considered asking her, but he hadn't known if Elizabeth would want to leave the island because of Turner's eventual return. After spending the day with her, though, it was easy to tell that she was ready to leave.

Teague nodded again. "Good. Go tell her the news. For a while there, I thought that I might have to blow her down and put her out of her misery."

When Teague chuckled, Barbossa tried to smile in return, but it came across as a grimace at best. Sometimes he didn't know how far the old pirate's humor went; he _did_ carry around the shrunken head of his wife, after all.

"I'll go tell her right now."

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for Barbossa to find Elizabeth. He'd assumed that she was by the shore, and that's exactly where he found her.<p>

"Thought yeh were goin' to bed."

Elizabeth jumped, being too lost in her dismal thoughts to hear someone approaching her from behind.

"You scared me," Elizabeth told him as Barbossa sat down beside her.

"Apologies."

"I wasn't sleepy," she continued, answering his original question.

"I see," Barbossa commented, leaning back on his hands, the gritty sand scratching his palms. "Stay up a lot, do yeh?"

Elizabeth shrugged as she pulled her knees up to her chest and then wrapped her arms around them. "I sleep."

"Every night?"

"Most nights."

Barbossa nodded. "Losin' sleep won't make him return no quicker."

"That's what Teague says."

"He be a wise ol' pirate."

"That's not it. Well, not all of it, anyway." Elizabeth thought that maybe she'd said too much, but if she couldn't confide in the captain about her longing to be at sea, who could she confide in?

"What do you mean? Not all of what?"

Elizabeth sighed and threw a shell that she'd been playing with towards the shoreline. "It's being out at sea," she confessed with a heavy heart. "That's what I miss the most."

"So join me crew." _That was easy enough,_ Barbossa thought smugly.

As the moonlight cast a silvery glow upon them, Elizabeth turned to face Barbossa, incredulous at his nonchalance towards her admittance. "Don't you understand? I'm supposed to be pining away for my husband, not the sea." She was an awful wife for desiring to be on a ship more than being with her husband. Of course she missed Will, but it was the sea that caused tears to wet her pillow at night.

Barbossa didn't see what the problem was. "Can't yeh pine fer both?"

Elizabeth looked away and wondered if she should tell Barbossa what she'd done. In an odd way, she felt as if she were talking to an old friend, and she longed to confide in him. Teague was a friend, too, but in a different way, and besides, he already knew of her abomination. Still, she felt too guilty about what she'd done to tell anyone else; Elizabeth absentmindedly rubbed her wrist and decided to keep her shame to herself.

"Yes, I suppose that I do pine for both," she finally responded. "I guess…I know that Will is unreachable, so I've put him out of my head somewhat. But the ocean, it's right there, calling out to me, teasing me with its crashing waves and whispers of freedom. I've missed being on a ship more than I thought I would."

Barbossa nodded in understanding; he knew the call of the ocean all too well as the bug had bit him rather young, as well. "Yeh got seven more long years," he reminded her, sitting up and brushing his hands together to rid them of sand. "If yeh continue to mope around here, you'll be a miserable woman when he does finally return. That won't be no good for either one of yeh. The Pirate King belongs on a ship."

Elizabeth smirked and looked at Barbossa. "_Your_ ship?"

Barbossa shrugged as he gazed out at the ocean shrouded in darkness save for the moonlight dancing on the water's choppy surface. "Perhaps."

"Don't toy with my delicate emotions like that."

Barbossa chuckled heartily and looked at Elizabeth squarely. "There be nothin' delicate 'bout yer emotions. They be fiery maybe, but not delicate."

Elizabeth smiled, almost afraid to believe that Barbossa's offer was genuine. "So, I'm invited to join your crew?" She wanted to be on a ship again so bad she could taste it, and if he was teasing her, she'd march him to the nearest plank and make him walk it.

"Aye."

"I'd considered returning to England," she shared. "I spent the first twelve years of my life there, you know."

Barbossa snorted derisively. "Fancy findin' yerself dancin' a jig with Jack Ketch, do yeh? Nay; pirate kings don't belong in England."

"But they belong on your ship?"

"That they do," Captain Barbossa answered, standing and brushing off the sand from his clothes before heading back in. "So, get to bed. I don't need no tired and listless crewman aboard me ship."

Elizabeth quickly stood and walked with him. "Aye, Captain," she replied, feeling better than she had in quite some time. "And thank you." She was getting back on a ship! Finally!

"No need to thank me," Barbossa growled with a shake of his head as they walked. "I ain't doin' yeh a favor. You've proved yourself worthy many times over."

Even in the dark, Elizabeth felt the heat rise to her cheeks at his recognition. She knew that compliments did not fall from Captain Barbossa's lips easily. She smiled all the way back to her chamber and, for the first night in three years, she fell asleep just minutes after going to bed.

* * *

><p>Three days later, Elizabeth climbed aboard the <em>Imperial<em> after Mr. Gibbs hoisted her trunk up with the capstan. The ship was built very much like the _Pearl_ had been with just a few differences. The spar deck carried carronades for when they had to fight at close range, and the gun deck (just below it) was lined with more heavy guns than the _Pearl_ had had. The next deck – the berthing deck – featured more room for the crew, and even had space for a small hospital, if necessary. Instead of being painted black, the _Imperial_ was made of oak and pine, and it cast a much less ominous presence in the ocean when its ivory-colored sails were unfurled.

Elizabeth thought that it was beautiful.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, after Elizabeth had spent the day familiarizing herself with the new ship and its workings, she strolled into Barbossa's quarters – without knocking – to find out what their exact heading was.<p>

Barbossa, who had been studying his map, stood up quickly when he heard the door open. No one dared to enter his cabin without knocking, so he wasn't sure if he was angry or amused when he saw who it was.

"Forget how to knock, did yeh?" Barbossa decided that he was more amused…this time.

Elizabeth sauntered over to the table and sat down in one of the chairs, casually lifting her boots up to rest on the edge. She knew that she was testing her parameters, but she wanted to see how far she could go.

"King," she reminded him with a smirk that dared him to argue with her.

Barbossa rolled his eyes and huffed as he sat back down. "Blasted Sparrow votin' in a woman king," he muttered to himself. "I don't suppose you'd try knockin' next time, aye?"

"I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request," Elizabeth quickly replied, mischief twinkling in her eyes. She wouldn't say it out loud, but she was almost giddy about being back on a ship, and the fact that she was with this particular crew again just made it even better. She was _happy._

Shaking his head, Barbossa couldn't hide his smile. "Ornery strumpet," he called her with a hint of something that loosely resembled affection. He'd never voice his thoughts, but it was good to have her around again, even if she stirred up longings that he was forced to restrain.

Elizabeth dropped her jaw in feigned offense at his playful insult, but then she started laughing. "I'll be a compassionate king and let that remark go," she teased with a raised eyebrow.

Barbossa dipped his head in mock appreciation. "Much obliged," he replied properly. "Now get yer dirty boots off of my damn table!" He couldn't resist barking at her, though he knew it did not have the same effect that it had had a couple years previous. Shame, that.

Elizabeth quickly complied and then leaned over to look at the map. "The Colonies? We're going to the Colonies?" She'd not expected _that_ particular heading as she knew it would take weeks to get there.

Barbossa didn't miss the surprise in her voice. "That be our destination," he confirmed.

"Why?"

Barbossa rolled his eyes again. "And yeh be a nosey strumpet, too."

"Well, if I was looking at a map of the Colonies, wouldn't you be a little curious as to why?"

Barbossa sighed. He'd forgotten just how tenacious Elizabeth could be. He'd wanted to wait until a few days into their voyage before sharing what his plans were, but something told him that she wouldn't wait that long, so he decided to test her allegiance.

"We're going to help them fight the British for their independence," Barbossa revealed.

Elizabeth didn't bat an eye at his statement. "What's in it for us?"

Barbossa should have known that he would have a difficult time fazing Elizabeth. "We get to keep the booty and whatever else we like from the ships that we take as long as we prevent them from reaching the shoreline." He really didn't want to explain everything – nor did he have to – so he stuck with short answers.

"Are there documents that state this?"

_Smart lass_, Barbossa thought. "There be Letters of Marque waitin' for us."

Elizabeth's eyes grew large. "_Letters of Marque?_" she replied indignantly, her brows furrowing together. "But that's –"

"I know what it is," Barbossa growled with a tone that warned her not to press the issue. "There has been word through the ports of other pirates cleanin' up better than ever. I'll not miss an opportunity to line my pocket." It was not the entire reason, but that's all she needed to know.

Elizabeth crossed her arms where she sat. Letters of Marque weren't the same as being truly free, but if it proved to be lucrative, she supposed it would be acceptable, though a tiny part of her was a little suspicious. She was dealing with a pirate, after all, so there was always an ulterior motive. "You realize that I'm from England," she reminded him.

Barbossa nodded. "Aye, you were born in England, but the blood in yer veins be that of pirates," he told her, eyes glittering in the dimly lit room.

Elizabeth wanted to argue with him, but she couldn't; there was too much truth in his words. "You think that you've got me all figured out, don't you," she asked rhetorically, briefly wondering if their verbal sparring would continue throughout the voyage. Secretly, she hoped so because – _God help her_ – she liked it, though she told herself that she was just starved for attention.

Barbossa chuckled and sat back in his chair. "No, Missy," he corrected with a shake of his head. "Never been able to figure out lasses."

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Don't call me that."

"What?"

"Missy."

Barbossa lifted an eyebrow, thinking it interesting that a meaningless nickname bothered her, but that fighting her homeland invoked no reaction. "If'n yeh'll knock, I won't call yeh 'Missy'," he offered.

Elizabeth smiled then. "A bargain?"

"A bargain," Barbossa agreed, leaning forward to study his map again. "Now get out of me cabin before I drop yeh off at the nearest bathhouse."

The shocked expression on Elizabeth's red face as she left caused Barbossa to laugh heartily.

This was certainly going to be an interesting voyage.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Ahoy Mateys! I'm posting this in celebration of the premiere of POTC On Stranger Tides. I can't wait to see it! <em>**

**_For those reading Irish Eyes, don't worry - I will be finishing that one before I continue with this one. _**

**_I do not have a beta for this story, but I always want another set of eyes to look over my work. Anyone with nautical/pirate knowledge would be a big help because I will admit that my 'ship lingo' isn't up to par._**

**_Obviously, this story features Barbossa and Elizabeth as its pairing (even though she's married), so if that bothers you might want to continue on; this vessel might take you to a destination that you don't wish to visit! Those who think that B & E make the better pairing, climb aboard!_**

**_I'm always open to comments, suggestions and KIND constructive criticism, and I will reply to every review that I receive! Thanks for reading!_**


	2. Inked Marks

_**I know you all thought I'd forgotten about this story, but rest assured me hearties, I have not! Many of you followed Irish Eyes, so you know I wanted to finish that up before changing gears and fandoms. That's done, so now I can concentrate on this one. **_

_**Lore says that if Elizabeth was true to Will for the first ten years that he would be freed of his obligation to the Dutchman. That will not apply here, just FYI.**_

_**Thanks to Knight Mistress, rockstar1093, LilyHellsing, SnapePotionsMistress, asininityJackal, Conni HD, booda77, Fwallow, poty90, Lady Avotil and Callidora-Malfoy for leaving me lovely reviews for the first chapter. As you'll discover, I'm very appreciative of my readers. I will always reply to your reviews, and I will always give a little shout out to you here. **_

_**I don't strive for speediness in posting chapters - I strive for quality. You may have to wait longer than you'd like for an update, but when I do post, it will be the best offering that I have. I put quite a bit of time and effort into my stories to make sure that each chapter is the best it can be. **_

_**I will make every effort to keep this period piece historically accurate, but if you notice an error, feel free to let me know. Same with the pirate 'lingo'...if something seems off, send me a message. Also, I know ending words without a 'g' (like interestin') isn't grammatically correct, nor is some of the other pirate speak I've used, for that matter, but I did that because that's how they sound in the movies (and it makes sense to me that they would not speak properly).**  
><em>

* * *

><p>As Elizabeth changed for bed, her mind drifted back to the Letters of Marque that Barbossa had mentioned the night before. Helping the Colonies fight the British and legally keeping the booty sounded good, but that's what bothered her – it sounded <em>too<em> good. She'd dealt with enough pirates to know that a situation like that begged for deceit and underhandedness. Certainly, Barbossa knew that, as well, so she was very curious as to what the real reason was that he would accept the letters.

Elizabeth crossed her arms and sat down on the bed. They'd risked their lives to stay free, and after only three years, they were employed – _privateers_, technically. The more she thought about it, the less she liked it – she was convinced that there was something Barbossa wasn't telling her, and while she expected that, she didn't like it. She was the king – she could demand that he tell her – but it would do nothing but anger him, and that would be pointless. She wanted him to trust her, as much as he could, anyway, being what they were, so she could make no demands of him.

Lying down on the feather mattress, Elizabeth remembered the night that he'd ransacked Port Royal – her thoughts towards him had certainly changed since then. Initially, she'd hated him. She'd been glad, relieved, even, that Jack had shot him at Isla de Muerta. Then she'd been shocked (and surprisingly thankful) when he'd walked down the stairs at Tia Dalma's to help them retrieve Jack from the Locker, especially since it had been her fault that he'd been stranded there in the first place. When they'd joined with the other pirate crews to defeat Beckett and The East India Trading Company, though, something had changed between her and Barbossa. They'd worked side by side, and they had schemed together quite successfully, getting along in an uncanny, oddly comfortable, sort of way. She looked back on those times in particular with great fondness.

Truth be known, Elizabeth respected Barbossa more than she was comfortable admitting – and not just because he'd married her and Will. The way that he'd carried himself throughout every ordeal had been admirable. She'd learned that while he was an underhanded and avaricious old pirate, he was a good man, as well. He was much like Jack in that way. Somehow amongst all the treachery, a thin thread of decency existed in them both.

That was how Elizabeth saw herself. She'd been just as deceitful as any of them, but her lies and tricks had been for the betterment of everyone involved, not because she'd truly wanted to be dishonest or swindle anyone. Even though a pirate, she thought of herself as a good, decent person, too.

_A good, decent person who punished Jack for deserting by sending him to the Locker_, her inner voice harshly reminded her.

Elizabeth sighed. Well, that was true, but she _had_ saved the entire crew by doing so – the Kraken had only been after Jack.

_He was also the one who saved your life when you fell into the water, and look at how you repaid him,_ the annoying voice in her head continued. _Let's make a tally – you used Norrington's love for you to manipulate him to do what you wanted, you purposely got Jack loaded on the deserted island to manipulate him to do what you wanted, you deserted your father so you could follow your own plan, you stabbed Barbossa with a knife in a futile effort to manipulate him and you stabbed Jones' heart out of selfishness – oh yes, you're a very good and decent person indeed. And let's not forget all the lies you told Will or the times that you just didn't tell him anything about your plans._

_ Will left me out of some plans, too,_ she countered.

_He was desperately trying to figure out how to rescue both you and his father. You, on the other hand, were busy kissing Sao Feng and James and Jack – _

_ Oh stop. You've made your point._

Elizabeth had no argument for her vile thoughts – they were all true. Will was not blameless, but he was _less_ blameless, for sure. While she tried to conceal her more selfish pursuits, Will was a gentle, honest soul, and she supposed that he always would be. For the past three years, she'd wondered – had he been given the chance on that deck, would he have chosen to stab Jones' heart to save himself or not? It plagued her thoughts in the dark of night and ate away at her sanity during the day. She'd considered asking him before he'd left her, but she'd decided that it was a question better left unasked.

With a moan, she pulled the thin sheet over her face. Why had she thought about stabbing that heart? It was a moment in time that she'd tried to forget ever since it happened. And it was just another reminder that Will was a better person than she was. Growing up, he'd followed propriety, and she'd disregarded it. Will had kept himself in check, and she – well, she'd often embarrassed her private tutor with her behavior. The past couple years, she'd told herself more than once that Will was simply _too_ good for her and that he deserved someone else. She certainly didn't deserve him, just like he didn't deserve the life he now had. She remembered when he'd told her that he was thankful and indebted to her for saving his life before he'd headed for the sea, but she hadn't believed him – not completely, anyway. She'd known that he was being positive and trying to make the best out of their awful predicament – that's just the type of person he was. It had made her feel even worse.

Elizabeth snuggled deeper under the thin blankets as she pushed the guilt-ridden thoughts of her husband away – she couldn't allow herself to think on them any longer. As far as the letters were concerned, she'd just have to wait to learn the real reason behind Barbossa's decision to accept them, whether she wanted to or not.

* * *

><p>Later the next afternoon, Elizabeth spotted Gibbs and, seeing that he was alone, decided to have a chat with him. She was curious what he thought about the letters, and it was the perfect time to ask.<p>

"It's good to be back at sea, Mr. Gibbs," she commented, resting her elbows on the railing as she leaned back against it. "I have missed it."

Gibbs chuckled as he secured a couple loose rigging lines around belaying pins. "Teague not be interestin' enough for ya, huh?"

Elizabeth smiled as she thought of Jack's father. "Teague was very accommodating and sort of sweet in his own way, but I was so bored. Sailing over to Ap Lei wasn't like this."

"Aye. The sea be like a mermaid – damn near impossible to ignore her seductive call once you've heard it," Gibbs remarked with a wink.

Elizabeth had never seen a mermaid for herself – she wasn't convinced that they existed, actually – but she had heard stories from men who'd sworn they'd narrowly escaped one's clutches.

"Speaking of seductive calls, what do you think about going to the Colonies?" she asked casually. "It sounds rather exciting, helping someone else fight for freedom like we did."

"Plunderin' be plunderin'," Gibbs answered with a shrug. "I think it be a bit strange to have permission to do it, but the cap'n says the letters will protect us somehow, so off we go."

"Have you ever pirated with letters before?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Nay," he answered, giving her a toothy grin. "Concerned, are ya?" She wasn't the first to ask about the letters. Many crewmen had come to him with questions.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Just curious."

"Well, don't fret none over it," Gibbs encouraged her as he had many crewmembers. "Barbossa be one of the wiliest cap'ns I know. If he accepted the letters, I'm sure it'll be a lucrative venture for all of us."

As Elizabeth watched Gibbs finish tying the ropes around the pins, she hoped that he was right.

* * *

><p>Barbossa stared at the knotted, wooden beams above his bed in confusion. He understood that Elizabeth had changed from a prim and proper governor's daughter to a sword wheeling, shrewd pirate – he'd observed much of the transformation with his own eyes – but what he'd seen earlier in the day had him more than perplexed.<p>

Elizabeth had inked marks on the inside of her left wrist.

Barbossa knew that she had to have gotten them within the past three years because she hadn't had them when they'd fought Beckett. He also knew that women didn't usually get marks like that; dockwalkers, maybe, to help them stand out to the men, but that scenario certainly didn't apply to Elizabeth. Outlaws and criminals were often marked, too – albeit, unwillingly – but that didn't apply to her, either. Barbossa was quite sure that she'd chosen to get them. But why?

He pictured them again. They were Asian, but he didn't know what they meant. He just couldn't imagine what had possessed her to permanently (and painfully) mark herself like she had.

Barbossa's first thought was that maybe it had something to do with the whelp – something to do with love – but then he snorted in disbelief. Elizabeth didn't seem to type to mark herself for love. No, there was something more to it, for sure. Barbossa pictured the marks again – more than likely, it was something that she didn't want to forget – something that she must have felt extreme guilt or sadness about. It was the only explanation that made sense, and her somber personality fit either, as well.

Barbossa then tried to think of what she might feel guilty or sad about. Jack? No, Elizabeth wouldn't mark herself for the likes of Sparrow. What about her father then? She'd left him, after all, to search for Turner, and then he'd died when they were trying to get back from World's End. Maybe it was for him? It was a definite possibility. That explanation made the most sense, but Barbossa still wasn't convinced.

He rolled over in his bed, knowing sleep would not come quickly. Barbossa wouldn't admit it, but the change in Elizabeth was unnerving. She was just not the same lass that he'd sent off to honeymoon three years ago, and her inked marks only served to confirm that. She was more withdrawn – more distant somehow – and he'd seen the proof in her eyes more than once; they were void of the fire that had once burned bright in them. He couldn't put a finger on it exactly, but something was very different.

Barbossa fought the urge to growl in frustration. Why was he so blasted curious, anyway? Why should he care why she'd marked herself? She was a grown woman – she was the king, for crying out loud – she could make her own decisions and do whatever she wanted. He needed not be concerned about her choices.

_You're curious because, in some odd way, you care about her and are attracted to her, you crusty, old bilge rat, _Barbossa told himself unkindly. He'd tried to convince himself for months that he was _not_ attracted to her, but he couldn't pretend any longer. He'd never admit it to anyone, but she impressed him a great deal, and not many did. She was easy on the eyes, too, but that really was just secondary to him; it was her intellect and shrewdness that had truly caught his attention. It was all pointless, though. She loved Turner fiercely; he'd seen the proof of her devotion too many times. Elizabeth would never betray her husband, regardless of their forced separation, and Barbossa had to accept that. He was too old and gruff for her, anyway.

Barbossa sighed and told himself that he should enjoy Elizabeth's company as long as he had it because their trip through the Pirate Round bound for the Colonies would more than likely be their last voyage together.

* * *

><p>A couple nights later as Barbossa patrolled the deck, he saw Elizabeth standing at the railing near the forecastle watching the gorgeous sunset before them that had cast a warm, amber hue over everything – including them – and he decided to join her.<p>

"Want to tell me what those inked letters on your wrist mean?" he asked boldly. He'd repeatedly tried to tell himself that it was none of his business and that he didn't care, but curiosity had taken over his mind like the frostbite had taken over his body on the way to World's End, so he'd decided to ask her about the marks outright to see what she'd say.

Elizabeth continued gazing out across the golden ocean before her as she leaned on the top of the gunwall. She wasn't surprised at his question, knowing that he would ask eventually – everyone did – but she had her own questions that she wanted answers to.

"Want to tell me the real reason why you'll accept Letters of Marque?" she retorted without turning around to look at him. She knew that he had a 'secret' reason – just like she did. If he wanted to know hers, he'd have to tell his. They had a history of bargains, after all.

Barbossa silently contemplated her inquiry for only a few moments before he walked away. Apparently, he'd need to choose a better tactic than a direct question.

* * *

><p>The next day, Barbossa noticed Pintel and Ragetti talking to Tai Huang – the former captain of Sao Feng's guards – near the capstan. After the battle against Beckett's armada, Huang had remained with Barbossa's crew, and he'd proven himself as a worthy seaman to the captain many times over.<p>

Barbossa smirked then. Why hadn't he thought of it before? Tai Huang was _Asian_. Perhaps he could enlist his crewmember's assistance in deciphering those mysterious symbols on Elizabeth's wrist. He took a step towards the men, but then he hesitated. Did he really want to know? He cleared his throat and continued over to the men. It only took a moment for him to decide – he _did_ want to know. He needed to know.

"A word, Huang," Captain Barbossa requested, walking away from the other two.

"Yes, Cap'n?"

Looking around to make sure that no one was listening, Barbossa quietly said, "I be needin' yer oriental expertise."

"In what way?"

"The Pirate King has some marks on the inside of her left wrist, and I be needin' to know what they mean."

Tai Huang nodded. "You plannin' to pay me?" he asked with a lopsided smirk.

Barbossa chuckled. He liked how the younger man thought. "You will most certainly be compensated for yer trouble."

"Very well. I let you know when I have answer."

* * *

><p>"Come in," Barbossa replied to the soft knock, already knowing who it was. Only she knocked like that.<p>

Elizabeth walked in, closed the door and quietly took a seat at the table. She needed nothing; she just wanted some company. She took notice that the captain was reclined in bed, clad only in his shirt, breeches and stockings, and she realized that she hadn't seen him in such a state of undress before. It was rather intimate, but she wasn't uncomfortable. His coat and hat hung off the post of the bed nearest him, his cutlass and revolver were on the bed beside him in their holsters and his bandana was firmly in place, as it always was. The tattered book in his hands fascinated her, though.

"I didn't know you could read." She'd assumed that the majority of pirates were illiterate and unable to read much more than what was on a chart.

"For yer information, I completed my schoolin' before turnin' pirate," Barbossa replied. "Me mum made sure that I went."

"Oh, I meant no disrespect," Elizabeth told him truthfully. "I just thought most couldn't read."

"Aye, most crewmen can't, but most captains can," Barbossa explained with a wink. "It be in our best interest so no one gets the upper hand." He closed his book and placed it beside him on the bed. "What about you?" Her presence was easy and familiar, and he decided that some conversation with her would be a pleasant diversion from his book.

"I had a private tutor in Port Royal," Elizabeth answered as she reached for the rum bottle on the table and helped herself, not even bothering to fetch a nipperkin to pour it in. "But she focused on plain-work, manners, wifely duties – as she called them – and such. I was much more interested in history and philosophy." The mention of Barbossa's mother was the first that she'd heard, and she wondered if he'd talk about her or his father. "Will you tell me about your parents?"

Barbossa did not usually discuss his family, but since he was feeling rather affable at the moment, he decided to answer her question.

"Me mum was Italian," he began. "She was from a large family in Palermo. They had acres of vineyards and made their own wine. Once a month, they travelled to Catania where they sold bottles to local taverns. Me mum was seventeen when she met my father. She'd gone with her father and two of her older brothers to Catania, and while she was countin' the money, my father strode in with men from his ship. He was a merchant from Portugal on his way to Greece. Story goes that they were quite taken with each other. They met briefly that day, but then their paths crossed in Catania a few more times. Her father and brothers discouraged her from seein' him, but she ignored them. When she turned eighteen, she snuck away from her homestead, paid a passerby to take her to Catania and met up with him there." Barbossa paused to smile at the memory of the story – he'd always admired his mother's fortitude. "They married immediately, and before her family could stop her, she hopped on his ship bound for his home in Loule, Portugal. She never went back to Italy."

Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised. She'd expected to hear that his father had been a pirate and his mother a wench. "They must have had a great love," she said, a little melancholy since her husband was God knew where in the ocean, leagues away from her. "Especially for her to leave her family like that. I know just how difficult that is." She thought about her father instantly – she still blamed herself for his death, though she knew she wouldn't have been able to save him even if she'd been in Port Royal. She still had nightmares about seeing him in that small boat when they were trying to get back from World's End.

Barbossa nodded, briefly wondering if her statement was a clue as to what the marks on her wrist were for. He hoped Huang would have an answer for him soon. "They were married over forty years and had five children. They had a small vineyard of their own, and when he stopped sailin' in his late forties, they made wine and sold it to local taverns for the rest of their days."

"Did you sail with your father?"

Barbossa chuckled. "I be the only son, so I was on a ship every chance I got," he answered. "I often stowed away on his ships, in fact, until he gave up tryin' to keep me at home and let me join the crew."

Elizabeth laughed, trying to picture Barbossa as a child sneaking around on his father's ship. "I did the same thing! My father would get so angry with me, but I couldn't help it. The sea just –"

"Called out to yeh," Barbossa finished with a nod.

"Exactly. I tried to play the role of the governor's daughter – I really did. I wore the proper clothing. I behaved the proper way, or tried to, at least. I spoke in the proper manner, but –"

"Wasn't who yeh were," Barbossa finished for her again. "There was another side of yeh that wanted out of all that stuffy, high society behavior. It just never fit – like trying to wear someone else's boots."

Elizabeth smiled at him and nodded. "You understand."

Barbossa shrugged. "Who wouldn't?"

Elizabeth quickly looked away as she drank more rum. Conversation was so easy with Barbossa, especially when it came to the subject of sailing. She wished it had been that easy with her husband. Their turbulent relationship had not been without its share of heated arguments.

Elizabeth's silence spoke volumes to Barbossa, and he was somewhat surprised at what it implied. "Turner didn't, did he?"

With a roll of her eyes, Elizabeth answered, "No, not exactly." It was an understatement, really. She and Will had different opinions on many subjects.

Barbossa furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "That be a might strange considerin' that he's –"

"He didn't ask for that," Elizabeth interrupted, looking back at Barbossa, her earlier feelings of being relaxed and comfortable gone in a flash as her shoulders stiffened instantly. "Jack and I were being selfish when we stabbed the heart – well, me mostly. Will only ever wanted to be a blacksmith and have a family. He never wanted to be at sea; it didn't call to him like it did to me – to us. And because of me, now he's stuck there permanently." She looked away and bit her lip, hating the immense guilt that overwhelmed her every time she thought about the situation. She wondered if it would ever stop – it felt just as horrible then as it had three years ago.

Barbossa studied the young lady that sat at his table drinking his rum. He knew the expression on her face all too well – there was no mistaking it. "You feel quilty."

Elizabeth lifted her glistening eyes to his and nodded, the weight of her selfishness crushing her. "I cursed him," she whispered shamefully. She'd regretted her action many times over, and she would have given anything to change the past.

"Nay. Life don't always turn out the way we plan. I bet Turner would gladly ferry souls instead of bein' dead; it's no fun, I assure you. Plus, he has a beautiful wife to visit every ten years. I'm sure that he don't think himself cursed."

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. "But he didn't get to make that choice. He – " She stopped talking and tilted her head to the side as she looked at Barbossa curiously. "Wait. Did you just call me _beautiful_?" She must have heard wrong; the captain would never give her such a bold and direct compliment like that.

For the first time in countless years, Barbossa felt heat rush to his cheeks, and he was thankful that his facial hair concealed most of it. Instead of looking away, though, he held her gaze steady. It was truth; he couldn't deny it, though he hadn't _exactly_ planned to say that to her. "Aye," he replied, his voice softer than usual. "Would you prefer to be called homely?"

Elizabeth blinked twice and swallowed forcibly as her heart beat faster. "No, I…well, I'm not accustomed to hearing such talk from you." Nor was she accustomed to being flustered by him, which she was. Barbossa said she was _beautiful._ Why did she suddenly feel like one hundred butterflies were fluttering around in her stomach?

Knowing he'd said enough for one night, Barbossa picked up his book, but his eyes never left hers. "I'm naught but a man, Elizabeth. I have eyes that appreciate beauty when they see it, even if it not be theirs to appreciate. Now, off to bed with yeh. I'd like to read some more."

Elizabeth stood up, feeling slightly awkward from his statement as it reminded her of the bathhouse incident in Singapore, and she was afraid that her bright pink cheeks gave her thoughts away. "It is getting late, isn't it?" she said nervously, putting the rum bottle back on the table and heading for the door. "Good night, Captain."

* * *

><p>As she drifted off to sleep twenty minutes later, Elizabeth could still hear Barbossa's compliment as it repeated in her head, and it made her smile.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Belaying pins – wooden pegs used to secure rigging lines<em>

_Ap Lei – old name for Hong Kong_

_Pirate Round – course from the western Atlantic, around the southern tip of Africa, stopping at Madagascar before continuing on_

_Nipperkin – a small cup_

_Plain-work – basic sewing_


	3. Important Author's Note

I know, I know – you were hoping this was a chapter. But I need to share with you why there will be delays in posting future chapters.

We just found out that my mom has non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. We'll find out tomorrow how far it has spread, but it is supposed to be a highly curable cancer whether it's spread or not (cross your fingers). Chemo will start soon, and I will be taking my mom back and forth to her treatments and spending more time with her while she's going through this.

I hope her treatments will only last a short time, but we'll see how things progress.

So, I just wanted to let you all know. The story is not abandoned – I will update, just not as quickly as you'd like. Sorry, but Mom comes first, of course, as I suspect yours would. Keep her in your thoughts? I'd definitely do the same for you. Thanks very much.


	4. Huang's Answer

_"Now that the curse has been lifted," Barbossa called out to his motley crew. "Everyone is to return to the ship for some long overdue celebratin'!"_

_ As the men, once again mortal, made their way out of the cave boisterously, Elizabeth made to follow them, though she was confused. She didn't understand how her blood had worked, but she supposed it was no matter. It was over – the curse was lifted – so now she needed to focus on how to get home. Someone grabbing her by the wrist snapped her out of her reverie._

_ "Where yeh be goin', Miss Turner?" Barbossa asked, a predatory grin on his face that was flesh-colored once more._

_ "I'm returning to the ship. Isn't that what you just ordered everyone to do?"_

_ "Aye, but we not be returnin' with the crew," he informed her as they remained on the huge mound of treasure by the chest._

_ Elizabeth tried to free her wrist from his hold, but he would not let go. "Why not?" she asked. "There's no more reason to be in here."_

_ Barbossa tugged on Elizabeth's wrist and pulled her to him, causing her to gasp when she collided with his chest. "There's still a bit of blood to be paid just yet," he told her with a knowing wink._

_ "No!" Elizabeth exclaimed in instant fear, pushing and railing against him, not understanding what his wink meant. "Don't kill me! The curse is lifted! What more do you –"_

_ "Kill you? Why the blazes would I do that?"_

_ "The blood," she answered, her lips trembling as she continued to fight him. "You're going to kill me!"_

_ Barbossa wrapped an arm around Elizabeth's waist to still her struggle, allowing his free hand to descent to the apex between her legs, his fingers boldly dancing across her sex that was still hidden under her fancy dress. "That not be what I had in mind," he explained as he leaned close to her, his voice deep and gravelly. "My desires be more of a…physical nature."_

_ Elizabeth's eyes widened in both alarm and surprise, her throat suddenly dry as cotton. "Physical? As in –"_

_ "As in I'm goin' to lay with yeh before we return to the ship," Barbossa informed her, his cautionary tone telling her there would be no argument. "Right here in this cave. Right now."_

_ Elizabeth was indignant, her fear instantly switching to anger. "You will do no such thing!" she exclaimed, continuing to fight against the pirate's fierce embrace. "You despicable, awful –" _

_ Barbossa ignored her protests and scooped her up in his arms, pushing the chest of cursed gold over with his dirty, black boot. It caused an avalanche of coins to spill and cascade down the mound, tinkling and rattling as they went. _

_ "Put me down!" Elizabeth yelled, squirming in his firm hold. "Let me go!"_

_ "I only be given' yeh this one choice," Barbossa warned her as he carefully descended the mound of treasure and sliding coins. "I either take yeh as a proper lady, or I just take yeh. Considerin' that we be headin' back to a ship full of men that haven't had no physical pleasure in years, yeh might benefit from being wed to me. Without the protection of bein' my bride, there be no tellin' what they might do."_

_ Elizabeth quickly took inventory of the situation. If she fought Barbossa, he could injure her and leave her there in the cave to die, or worse – he could turn her over to the entire crew back on the ship, and they could do unspeakable things to her. She really had no option – she didn't want to be stranded, she certainly didn't want to be injured, nor did she wish to be passed around like a common dockwalker. She reasoned that one man was better than a ship full, and it was better than taking her chances trying to fight him. Even if she wounded him – or even killed him – what would happen to her then? She immediately understood what choosing the lesser of two evils meant._

_ "Come on, Missy," Barbossa prodded impatiently as he knelt down to carefully place her on the incline of coins and gold. "Me loins be about to burst, and I'll only wait so long for a decision before I make it for yeh."_

_ Would Barbossa be true to his word? Would the other men leave her be? Elizabeth supposed that, in some way, this was how it was supposed to be for her; living amongst pirates, married to their captain, their consummation occurring in a hidden cave with cursed gold as their wedding bed. She tried to put on a brave face, but she was scared. She was terrified. Her decision was made, though._

_ "I prefer to be a proper lady," Elizabeth answered. She sounded more confident than she felt._

_ Barbossa dipped his head before tossing his hat aside. "Very well, m'lady," he purred, shrugging off his heavy coat and unhooking holsters before crawling on top of her. "We be gathered here today to join us in matrimony." He slipped one arm under her, digging into the loose coins as he did so. "Do you, Elizabeth, take me as yer husband?" He reached down and pulled the material of her dress and shift up, bunching it between them and baring her legs to the damp air of the cave and the cold metal under her._

_ "Y-Yes," Elizabeth whispered hesitantly, every muscle in her body clenched tightly in uncertainty and apprehension. Occasionally, she'd heard the maids talk about men, but she knew nothing of lying with one. What would happen? Would it hurt?_

_ Leaning over on one arm, Barbossa loosened his breeches and released his thick erection from its confines. "And I, Barbossa, take you, Elizabeth, as my wife," he continued, his voice raspy with years of unfulfilled need. _

_ When calloused fingers touched her bare sex, Elizabeth closed her eyes and gasped from the physical contact. He slid them along her wet folds, and when he flicked the fleshy nub nestled in between them, Elizabeth moaned and lifted her hips instinctively for more contact. She hadn't anticipated the pleasure, but she liked it. Maybe being his bride wouldn't be so bad._

_ "By the powers vested in me as Captain," Barbossa concluded, shifting his hips to align himself with her entrance and slipping his other arm under her. "I now pronounce us as husband and wife. I may now take my bride."_

_ Elizabeth dug her heels into the coins defensively when Barbossa crashed his lips to hers in a desperate kiss that demanded her response. Even though she was untouched, she recognized the tidal wave of his passion when it was unleashed, and its ferocity startled her, causing her to wonder if she should have rethought her choice. When she felt the tip of his manhood prodding her virgin entrance, she squeezed her thighs together instinctively in a futile attempt to save her maidenhead. Barbossa groaned into their frenzied kiss as he reached down with one hand and hooked it behind her knee. As if he'd done it one hundred times, he pushed her leg over and out of the way before pillaging her prized treasure. Elizabeth cried out when he pierced her innocence and squeezed her eyes together, feeling like she was being split in two from the inside out. The core of her body burned, and she wondered if she was bleeding – it felt like it. Barbossa trailed wet, hungry kisses down her cheek and neck, finally burying his face in the crook of her shoulder. He growled with each thrust, frantically trying to slake his lust, holding her leg out of his way all the while. _

_ Elizabeth was reeling from being inundated by a rush of new emotions and sensations. She was Barbossa's wife – a pirate wife – and she would share her bed with him for God only knew how long. Wherever he went, she would go, as well. She was his. In a matter of seconds, her entire life had shifted course. While she should have been furious with him, somehow it seemed right – like being with him was exactly where she belonged._

_ The fear that had consumed Elizabeth previously had all but disappeared. Barbossa's passionate kisses ignited a reaction inside her that she had no name for – he'd been able to make her forget everything that was happening outside the cave and quickly. Though the first few thrusts of his had been painful intrusions upon her body, they were currently providing a newfound pleasure and commandeering her thoughts. She heard herself moaning, briefly thinking of how unladylike she sounded, but she realized that she didn't care one bit. She'd never experienced such physical bliss before, and she happily surrendered to its power and to her new husband. Wrapping her free leg around Barbossa, she moved her hips in synch with his which caused tides of rapture to crash into her over and over. She tried to remember why she'd been fighting him._

_ "Do yeh like bein' taken by yer husband, Wife?" Barbossa whispered hotly in her ear, winding her up even tighter. "Do I be bringin' yeh pleasure?" Elizabeth bit her lip and nodded. He let go of her leg and reached down between them to rub the pearl of her sex. "How about this? Do it feel good? Tell me, Wife – I want to hear yeh."_

_ Elizabeth gasped, overwhelmed by his ministrations upon parts of her body that she'd never imagined could feel like they did. How had she never discovered such things on her own? Her muscles tightened, and her breath grew ragged as she struggled to form coherent words._

_ "Yes," she breathed. "Don't stop – feels so good." Ecstasy claimed her moments later, her inner walls pulsing and spasming for the first time, causing her exclamations to echo off of the cave walls around them. She was certain that she saw stars. _

_ Unable to hold himself a minute longer, Barbossa submitted to his long years of pent up desire and released himself, spilling his now virile seed inside of her with a thunderous roar. Elizabeth had never heard such sound from a man before, and it made her grin. She hoped to hear more and soon._

_ "I meant what I said," Barbossa panted when his gaze met hers as he tried to catch his breath. "Yer mine now. The crew won't touch yeh." He kissed her lips that still trembled from their consummation. "I'll have a bath drawn for yeh when we return to the ship."_

_ "A bath?" Elizabeth asked curiously._

_ "You'll be a might sore," Barbossa explained with an almost apologetic smile. "A hot bath will help ease any discomfort. We have a honeymoon to celebrate, and I don't want yeh in pain for it."_

_ After he slipped from her, Elizabeth modestly pushed her dress back down while he rolled to her side to refasten his breeches and holsters. The tone of his voice had been surprisingly gentle, and she was caught off guard by it. "You almost sound like you genuinely care," she said._

_ Barbossa chuckled as he turned to face Elizabeth. He grabbed a handful of coins and dropped them randomly along her torso. "There be all kinds of treasure, Mrs. Barbossa."_

* * *

><p>Elizabeth woke to a golden stream of sunlight warming her face. She blinked a few times and yawned before sitting up in her bed. What a dream <em>that<em> had been; it seemed so real. What really caught her attention, though, was the tingling between her thighs – it was a little disconcerting. Since when was she attracted to _Barbossa_? She shook her head. His comment from the night before must have really gotten to her. She was most certainly _not_ attracted to him.

A knock on the door startled her. With no warning, it opened, and the subject of her dream leaned in as she scrambled for the sheet.

"I know yeh be king and all," Barbossa quipped. "But the crewmen be needin' yer help out here."

"You could have at least waited for me to say 'come in'."

"Yeh could have gotten out of bed on time like the rest of the crew."

Elizabeth crossed her arms. "You know, you shouldn't barge in on a lady. What if I'd been getting dressed?"

Barbossa smirked as his eyes quickly roved over what little bit of her nightgown he could see, wondering if she wore anything under the thin material and hoping that she didn't. "Then yeh might have found yerself back in bed," he taunted with a mischievous wink. "Ten minutes, and I come back, so get up."

"Oh for the love of – keep your breeches on," Elizabeth told him, tossing back the covers and hating the fact that her face was red. "I'm coming." When Barbossa closed the door, she realized that her heart was racing. He hadn't been coquetting with her, had he? No, that was silly. Barbossa was just jesting with her as he often did; he would _never_ coquette with her. But, if that was so, why did his comment of finding herself back in bed cause her thighs to squeeze together and her stomach to feel like the ocean during a maelstrom?

"Damn dream," Elizabeth muttered as she located her clothes and hastily dressed.

* * *

><p>"Do we be on course for Madagascar?"<p>

"Aye, Captain," Elizabeth answered with a nod. She'd recently taken over the charts when they'd found themselves heading northwest instead of southwest. "Our direction has been corrected."

Tai Huang, who had previously been charting their course, caught Barbossa's gaze and winked. He knew that the King was excellent at charting, so in order to spend time with her to casually decipher the marks on her arm, he'd purposely led them astray; only a day or two, though, and with the captain's approval. He walked away to start working on the rigging, looking down to hide his smirk.

* * *

><p>"Do yeh have information for me?" Barbossa asked when he approached Huang later.<p>

"Aye, Cap'n," the crewman answered with an expectant gleam in his eyes. "You have payment?"

Barbossa pulled a ruby bracelet from the pocket of his coat for Huang to see. The Asian's eyes enlarged, obviously satisfied with his compensation, and he leaned closer towards the captain.

"There are five marks," Huang explained, keeping his voice low. "They make two words; _beautiful baby_."

Keeping his face neutral, Barbossa handed over the bracelet. "Much obliged," he said and turned to head to his cabin to be alone with his thoughts.

Beautiful baby. The words repeated over and over in Barbossa's head like a mantra while he stomped unevenly across the deck. That could only mean one thing; Elizabeth had been pregnant. She hadn't had much time with Turner, so that was a little surprising, but where was the child? To ink herself so, he assumed that it must have died. She must have done it as a remembrance.

_That would certainly explain her personality change_, Barbossa thought as he entered his cabin. Losing children often destroyed young mothers emotionally_._ But something nagged at the back of his mind as he paced the floor. He knew that a woman's body changed visibly after childbirth, and Elizabeth looked exactly as she did when he'd last seen her three years ago. He shook his head. Something didn't add up, and Barbossa didn't like when things didn't add up.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, after driving himself mad thinking about what Huang had told him, Barbossa invited Elizabeth to his cabin to share a bottle of rum. They chatted for a couple of hours about safe topics – the ship, moving some people around in their duties and what to expect when they docked in Madagascar. Then he decided to ask about the past to see if she would divulge any information.<p>

"So, tell me what the last three years have brought yeh," Barbossa prompted when their conversation had quieted. It was time for bed, but he really wanted to know about the child.

Elizabeth lowered her eyes and shrugged. "Not much really," she answered, picking at a hangnail. When her eyes met his again, they were steely and guarded. "I spent most of my time wandering along the beach or walking through the markets of Ap Lei. Teague and I talked quite a bit, too." She smirked as she pictured Jack's father. "I must know his entire life history after three years. I helped him straighten up that wreck that he lived in, as well. That was really about all I did. Not very exciting for the Pirate King, is it?"

Barbossa studied Elizabeth. Her shifty looks and fidgeting told him that something more _had_ happened. "No, not very," he agreed, deciding it was time to ask her directly about the tattoo again – she wasn't going to mention it, apparently, and he was quickly running out of patience. "Is that where yeh got those inked marks? Ap Lei?"

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably where she sat. The wrist bearing the marks had been resting on the table, but she slid it off and into her lap after his question. She hadn't discussed her tattoo with anyone but Teague, and that had been more out of necessity than want. "Yes," she answered simply, looking down at the Asian writing, sadness emanating from her entire being. She remembered the day that she'd gotten it like it was yesterday. "In one of the markets." She should have kept her wrist wrapped and concealed. There were no secrets among pirates, and nothing was sacred. She'd hoped that no one would pay it much mind since others had them – she should have known better.

"That be a bold way to display yer love for Turner," Barbossa said purposely.

Elizabeth met his gaze then. "Who said that's what it meant?"

Barbossa lifted one eyebrow in feigned surprise. "Don't it?"

Elizabeth looked away and rubbed her wrist as if it hurt. It _did_ still hurt, just not physically. "I'd rather not discuss it," she said stiffly. "It's late. I'm going to sleep."

Barbossa had assumed that his question would make her leave, but he'd had to ask. "Pretendin' it never happened won't make it go away." His voice was oddly gentle as he watched her stand and walk away from the table.

Elizabeth opened the door and paused, but she didn't turn around to face him; she couldn't. "I know," she whispered, softly closing it behind her.

Barbossa sighed and shook his head. Her response wasn't what he'd hoped for, but something told him she'd tell soon; he'd never known her to keep a secret very long. He just had to wait until – as Sparrow would say – the opportune moment.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. Just to update, Mom has completed 2 chemo treatments, and I don't mind telling you that this is THE hardest thing that I've ever had to deal with for so many different reasons. Understand that updates will happen, but they will be delayed. Everything revolves around Mom right now. Anyone dealt with lymphoma before or with just being a caregiver? Let me know. Anything would help because I am certainly struggling.<strong>_

* * *

><p><em>Reviews for a chapter are like applauding at the end of a performance - no one wants to hear crickets. - <em>C.R. Lewis


	5. Barbossa's Secret

It felt really good to be on a ship again; Elizabeth couldn't deny that. She woke to a beautiful ocean that glittered in the morning sun, and she worked hard during the day which gave her a sense of purpose – something that she didn't have on Shipwreck Island. She'd felt so lost there, but on the ship, she felt like she was home. She was the only girl, but that didn't worry her – she knew the men, and she trusted them. She knew that she had their respect, as well, so that added to her comfort. A few of them she even considered a sort of friend.

Friends. Elizabeth hadn't had many. She remembered a couple girls that she'd played with back in England when she was little, but after moving to Port Royal, it had been difficult to make any, especially being schooled at home. She had been somewhat close to a couple of the maids, but her title as "governor's daughter" had prevented her from being closer, and she regretted that.

Will had been a friend, but again, her title had gotten in the way. He'd been respectful, but too respectful, if there was such a thing. She'd tried to get him to talk to her more – she'd even tried to convince him to meet her when she'd sneak out of the house – but he always chose the side of propriety.

Thinking of her husband made Elizabeth rather melancholy. While he was ferrying souls – a charge that he would do properly even though it wasn't what he truly wanted – Elizabeth was back on a ship pirating. She felt a little guilty for doing something that she enjoyed while Will could not do the same, but staying on that island was driving her crazy. She'd been more than thrilled when Barbossa asked her to join the crew, and there was no way that she was letting the opportunity pass her by.

Elizabeth looked over at Barbossa where he stood talking to Gibbs. He was different somehow – he was not the same as he'd been the last time that she'd seen him. He was still loud and obnoxious out on deck – he was a captain through and through – but when they'd dine together in his cabin, his demeanor was calmer, less gruff, in a way – and she enjoyed conversation with him. Well, except for the other night when he'd asked about her marks; that had annoyed her. She couldn't blame him, though – if she'd noticed something unusual about him, she would probably have asked about it, too.

Was Barbossa a friend, though? Elizabeth supposed he was at that point, and it made her smile. They did have a certain camaraderie, and she knew that she could trust him – mostly.

_Then why don't you tell him about what happened?_

Elizabeth focused on the rigging that she was tying up. She could tell him, but she didn't want to tell anyone, really. Telling someone meant admitting that she'd done it, and that just wasn't something she was ready to do. She wanted to forget that it ever happened.

_No, you don't. If you didn't want to remember, you wouldn't have marked yourself._

Elizabeth sighed. So she _did_ want to remember – she just wanted it to be less painful when she did. The anniversary was coming up, though, and that was always the hardest.

"Mrs. Turner, you all right there?"

Elizabeth whipped her head around to see Ragetti looking at her quizzically.

"What? Oh – yes – I'm fine," she said, smiling apologetically. "Why?"

"You've worked on that knot for some time now," he said, motioning with his hand. "I thought you might need some help."

Though a little quirky, Ragetti was genuinely a nice man. "I would appreciate that. Thank you."

"You're welcome. We're playing hombre tonight after dinner, if you'd like to join us."

Elizabeth had learned the card game on the way to World's End, and while she wasn't very good at it, she did enjoy playing.

"I'd love to."

* * *

><p>"What be yer rush tonight?"<p>

Elizabeth reached for the goblet of wine to wash down her bread.

"Playing hombre tonight."

Barbossa smirked before popping a couple pills into his mouth and chasing them with some rum. "Aren't yeh pretty bad at that game?" he asked, remembering that he'd beaten her many times when they'd played.

Elizabeth shot him a look of annoyance. "Very funny," she said. "I still like to play, even if I lose sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Barbossa chuckled. "It be a good thing that they're not playin' strip hombre, aye?"

"Strip hombre? What's that?"

"Each time yeh lose, yeh take off a piece of clothing," Barbossa explained with a twinkle in his eye.

"That doesn't sound fun," Elizabeth said.

Barbossa shrugged. "Depends on who yeh play with. We could play strip hombre in here, and I bet it would be a grand time."

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. "For you, maybe." Remembering the pills he'd just taken, she asked, "What were those for?"

"What?"

"The pills you took."

Barbossa looked away. He should have known not to take them in front of her. "They be medicine."

"Are you sick?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what are they for?"

Barbossa lifted his eyes to hers. "What are those marks on your wrist for?"

Elizabeth had finished eating, so after wiping her mouth with her linen, she said, "That's all right. You want to know worse than I do. I'll find out eventually."

Barbossa grinned. "So will I." _Actually, I already know what they mean. I just don't know the story behind them. _

"Confident, are you?"

"Very. Don't lose too badly tonight."

Elizabeth stuck her tongue out and then left. She did have to admit the idea of strip hombre had her curious, but with her skill, she'd be the first one naked, and she didn't think that would be a very good idea.

Maybe she and Will could play someday.

* * *

><p>When Barbossa noticed Elizabeth's bad mood the next day, he initially thought her losses from the night before must have been great, so he didn't miss the opportunity to tease her.<p>

"Lose more than usual last night, did yeh?" he asked with a grin.

"What do _you_ know about loss?" she spat at him before stomping away.

Barbossa was stunned into silence. She'd been jovial about her lack of skill the previous evening – what had her in such a huff? Something told him not to press her, though, so he headed back to the helm.

Barbossa watched Elizabeth all day. While she performed her duties adequately, she said little and barely acknowledged when someone spoke to her. He also noticed that she rubbed her wrist often – the marked one – as if it pained her. She hadn't hurt it that he was aware of, so he began to wonder about her earlier response. Something more than a card game was on her mind, and he knew that those damned marks were involved somehow.

Barbossa had tried to convince himself that he wasn't interested – that he didn't care – why she had marks or the story behind the words _beautiful baby_. He told himself that it didn't concern him in the least bit.

What did concern him was Elizabeth not being sharp. He was the captain, which meant his concern was the ship and the crew as a whole. He could not worry about every mood swing of every crew member, and that included the king, marks or not, baby or not.

Nope. Barbossa wasn't interested one bit.

* * *

><p>Sometime after midnight, Elizabeth ventured out to the deck. She'd tired of pacing in her cabin when she couldn't sleep, and she'd thought that taking a walk might help. She breathed deeply the salty air and wrapped her arms around her body when the dampness chilled her. She'd tried to push it aside all day, but her turbulent emotion was bubbling dangerously close to the surface – it was only a matter of time before it spilled over. Not ready to return to the confines of her cabin, she decided to go below deck. By the time she reached the brig, she was unable to contain her sadness for a moment longer and broke down sobbing. Stepping inside, she leaned against the rusty bars and dirty wall and allowed her sorrow freedom as tears streamed down her cheeks. She tried to escape it, but it always caught up with her. She wondered if the pain would ever lessen.<p>

Thirty minutes later, the sound of heavy boots descending the wooden steps nearby made Elizabeth frantically wipe her face and stand up. Dammit. She was certain the brig would have provided a little privacy.

"May I ask what yer doin' in here?" Barbossa inquired as he stood in the entrance. It was dark, but there was enough candlelight to reveal Elizabeth's tearstained face.

"I'd rather you didn't." Elizabeth – still sniffing from her tears – started to walk by him to return to her cabin, but he reached for her arm to stop her.

"Losin' a child must be horrible."

Elizabeth whipped her head around to glare at Barbossa through teary eyes, both shocked and ashamed at his comment. _How the hell did he know?_ "For your information, I didn't lose one," she spat angrily, narrowing her eyes at him. "I killed one three years ago today. There – now you know. Happy?"

Barbossa's face expression did not change at her admission. "This guilt yeh be harborin' is not gonna help me or the crew," he told her, trying to ignore the barrage of questions flying around in his head. "And I will not allow it to continue, king or not." It wasn't that he didn't have sympathy, but he had a ship full of men to worry about besides her, and her becoming self-destructive, as she was on the path to do, would accomplish nothing. He also knew that women were very different than men emotionally, so he could not treat her like he would one of the men. "I be a scabrous old dog, Elizabeth, but I can still listen."

Elizabeth gnawed on her bottom lip as tears spilled from her eyes again. His voice was unusually gentle in the dark, and her resolve disintegrated. She had to tell someone, and he was the only one that she trusted with such private information. Hanging her head, she took a deep breath and said, "I was pregnant when Will returned to the sea. When I first found out, I was happy about it, but then when I'd go market and watch the fathers with their children, I was reminded that our child wouldn't know Will until he was ten years old. Will would have missed his own child growing up. He would have missed everything – all of the firsts." She shook her head and sniffed. "It just wasn't fair. They would be nothing but strangers to each other. I couldn't allow either of them that heartache." She wiped more tears, remembering the day when she'd broke down in front of Jack's father and told him of her condition and how she'd felt about it. "So, Teague sent me to a woman that he knew in Ap Lei that helped dock walkers."

Barbossa nodded. "Herbs." It was a dangerous option, but not uncommon, and he'd known a few women who had used them when they'd found themselves in trouble.

Elizabeth met his eyes then, still crying. "I killed our child," she lamented quietly, shaking her head. "I'm heartless and cruel and selfish." She winced and shamefully whispered, "_Pirate_."

"Elizabeth, yeh were thinkin' of someone other than yerself," Barbossa tried to tell her. That's not –"

"Yes, it _is_," Elizabeth exclaimed, yanking her arm out of Barbossa's hold. "It's the most awful thing that I could have done! The child still deserved to live! What honorable woman does such a thing? I had no right to play God, and I will probably suffer for the rest of my life because of it. Will would never have agreed to it, even though he's at sea for years at a time – _never_!" She sniffed and continued wiping tears.

Elizabeth was inconsolable, but Barbossa tried, anyway. He knew that it was a hard decision for a woman to terminate a pregnancy, but she had made the right choice, whether she thought so or not. "Takin' care of a baby alone wouldn't have been easy," he said, hoping she could see reason. "Women that have babies with no husbands around have a very difficult time. They –"

"And how would _you_ know anything about women having babies and what's easy and what's not?"

Barbossa narrowed his eyes at her petulance and spoke in haste. "Because there was a lass in Puerto LaCruz that bore my son, and she had nothin' but hardship. That's how I know, missy!"

Elizabeth's eyes enlarged in surprise. She'd never considered that Barbossa could be a _father_. "You have a son?" Her shock trumped her anger.

"Aye," Barbossa confirmed, irritated with himself that he'd told her of his child. No one on the ship knew, and he hadn't planned on anyone ever knowing.

Elizabeth blinked a few times and wiped tears. "I didn't – I had no idea." She'd never thought that they could have anything in common regarding her decision. She really was quite stunned and unsure of what to say.

"It be no matter," Barbossa told her gruffly, not caring to explain a history that he hadn't planned on sharing. "But what yeh did was not all bad, Elizabeth. Yeh saved yerself even more heartache, I promise yeh, and the child, too."

Elizabeth wiped more tears and took a deep breath to try and calm herself. "That's what I tried to tell myself," she replied. "But some days that's more believable than others. And the anniversary date is always the hardest."

"Well, if you had kept it, you'd still be in Shipwreck Cove," Barbossa reminded her, hoping to get her mind off the child. "Instead of headin' to the Colonies for some long-overdue plunderin'."

Elizabeth offered a tiny smile. "I have missed the sea." It was a truth that she couldn't deny. It was the happiest that she'd been in three years.

"Exactly. So, try to forgive yerself some, aye? Yeh not be so bad." Then Barbossa winked at her. "How about headin' back to bed? We've a long day tomorrow, and yeh need to sleep."

Elizabeth gazed into Barbossa's eyes longer than she'd intended. Usually they were cold and guarded, but they were warm and gentle at the moment. She'd never be able to explain it, but she felt something shift between them then, and – somehow – she didn't feel as sad as earlier, as if his acceptance of her awful deed made it less awful. It was oddly soothing, but she was surprised by that. "All right," she gave in as they left the brig.

They walked back through the ship towards their cabins in silence. When they reached her door, Elizabeth met Barbossa's eyes once more. "Will you tell me about your son?"

Barbossa smirked. He'd known that she would ask, and he had no reason not to tell her. It would be good to talk about him with someone – he never had. "Aye, but not tonight. Good night, Elizabeth."

"Good night," she replied. When he turned towards his cabin, she called out, "Captain?" Barbossa faced her once more. "Thank you," she added quietly. She meant it.

Barbossa tipped his hat towards her before closing the door behind him with a soft click.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Elizabeth was late getting up, but Barbossa chose not to wake her as he usually would have. When she eventually rushed out of her cabin, still frantically tucking her shirt in, he chuckled to himself.<p>

"I'm sorry for oversleeping," she told him in a rush. Even though she was 'king', she was still part of the crew and followed the same rules that they did. "I didn't mean to –"

"No worries, Elizabeth. I'll let it go this time." He caught her eye and winked.

Elizabeth smiled. Yes, something between them had definitely shifted the night before, and there was a little part of her that hoped it would remain shifted.

* * *

><p>Over the next couple days, Elizabeth felt somewhat lighthearted. Admitting what she'd done to Barbossa and then him telling her that she'd made the right decision helped her feel better. His acceptance didn't change her regret, but it did ease her guilt. Even though Teague hadn't said much when she'd told him that she wasn't keeping the baby, she could still sense that he hadn't agreed with her choice completely, and the woman that had administered the herbs to her had made her feel a little guilty with some of her questions, too. Barbossa hadn't made her feel anything bad towards her choice.<p>

Elizabeth had to admit to herself that another reason that Barbossa's acceptance made her feel better was because she valued his opinion; World's End had caused that, working together and spending so much time around each other. It was odd – sometimes she missed those days. She knew it was crazy, but she had very fond memories from then. The way that they'd come together to defeat Beckett meant a great deal to her. _Funny how Will was missing for much of that time_, Elizabeth heard in her head.

That was true, but it hadn't been because Will didn't want to be; he'd been desperately trying to save his father, and Elizabeth would never fault him for that. She would have done anything to save her father if she could have.

Even though her father had been too constrained, Elizabeth had loved him dearly. He'd done the best that he could raising her on his own, and though she'd never have all the fancy dresses and servants again, she'd always be appreciative of his doting on her like he had. She missed that.

Elizabeth looked up from the chart that she'd been working on and sighed heavily. She was alone, and she hadn't gotten completely used to it yet. From as far back as she could remember, she'd been surrounded by people, but she had no one now. No father, no family, no servants, no guards to watch over her. She had a husband, but he was gone, too. Being alone changed how one viewed one's world, though. Elizabeth had no one to worry about. No one could tell her what to do. When making decisions, she had no one to consider but her. She had to admit that, in a way, it was a relief. Even though it was just her, she'd finally gained the freedom that she'd always longed for.

_You're not completely alone. You've got Barbossa_, her inner voice reminded her.

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. She did, for the next number of months, anyway. But it was better than being stuck on that damned island.

* * *

><p>Since finding out Elizabeth's big secret, Barbossa's opinion of her had not faltered. If anything, his respect for her had grown. He'd always thought that too many women had babies just because they were with child – not because they truly wanted to raise a family. And as far as he was concerned, an unwanted child who suffered was worse than an aborted one. And he was relieved to finally know what had happened. He'd tried to tell himself that he hadn't been interested in what those marks meant, but he had been – and it had been driving him crazy. The fire that burned with her – the desire to live life the way she wanted – was one of her best attributes; he hated to see her look so dejected and sad.<p>

_That's because you care about her more than you should_, he reminded himself.

Unfortunately, that was probably true, but Barbossa was a pirate – he knew where to draw the line. There might be some part of him that cared for her, but he knew his place and hers.

When he heard the knock on his door, Barbossa smiled. Her place tonight was at his dinner table.

"Will you tell me about your son?" Elizabeth asked after they'd finished eating. It had been a week since their revealing conversation in the brig.

Barbossa wiped his mouth with a piece of cloth and took a sip of rum before leaning back in the chair to get comfortable. "In me early twenties, I found meself in Puerto LaCruz quite often. Met a young lass sellin' shiny green apples in the market." Elizabeth lifted one eyebrow in a silent question to which Barbossa chuckled and nodded. "Aye, she be the one that started my love for the fruit. Anyway, we got real friendly, and I stayed with her whenever I was in town. Weren't long before she was with child. I showed up one day, and she was about seven months along."

Elizabeth pictured the look of shock that must have been on his face when he came ashore and saw her. "What did you do?"

"I stayed with her for six months," Barbossa answered with a small shrug. "What else could I do? She had very little family, and I just couldn't leave her to endure childbirth alone." He'd never forget how alarmed he was when he saw her round belly full of his son. There had been a tiny part of him that had wanted to run back to the ship.

"So, you were with her when she had him?"

Barbossa nodded and winced at the memory of the blood curdling screams that he could still hear. Most would think that his experience as a pirate would have made witnessing childbirth easy, but it had not. "And it not be somethin' I ever want to witness again."

"What was her name?"

"Catherine."

"And your son?"

"Nathaniel."

Elizabeth stared at the gruff pirate and imagined a younger version holding the tiny baby in his arms. "I bet they were beautiful."

Barbossa smiled as he pictured them in his mind – a luxury he didn't usually allow himself. "Aye, they were."

"When did you see them last?"

Barbossa sighed. That was the part that he didn't like to remember. "Nathaniel was six. I was heavily involved in piracy, but I didn't have me own ship, so I was stuck at sea for months at a time. When I came ashore the last time, a neighbor told me that he'd stowed away on some ship, and Catherine…she'd contracted smallpox and had died a few months prior to my arrival."

"I'm so sorry," Elizabeth said sadly. That wasn't the sort of ending that she'd expected, and she almost wished that she hadn't asked about them. She certainly didn't want to bring up bad memories for him.

"I tried to help her as much as possible," Barbossa continued, pushing away the guilt that lingered whenever he thought about them. "When he was little, I gave her as much money as I could as often as I could, but she still struggled. She worked a couple jobs until she eventually went to work at a nearby brothel to keep a shelter over their heads and food on the table."

"A brothel? Oh, how awful!"

"That's why I told yeh that yeh did right by everyone involved. If I'd been there when she'd first found out about the child, I probably would have suggested the herbs, as well. Both of them suffered needlessly. I don't even know if Nathaniel is alive."

Elizabeth could hear the regret that remained in his words, and she understood the point that he made regarding her decision. She wished to lighten the mood that had suddenly turned serious, so she said, "You're sure there were no other children?"

Barbossa shook his head. "Always used me English overcoats after that." They weren't very comfortable, but he didn't wish to relive that experience again.

Elizabeth frowned in confusion. "How did a coat prevent pregnancies?"

"Because it goes over – " Barbossa looked down at his lap, but he noticed that Elizabeth still looked confused. "Don't yeh know what a condom is?" She shook her head. "It's a piece of animal intestine that fits over a man so that when he spills inside of a lass, it stays in the intestines and not her womb." He had to remind himself that she had no reason to know of such things.

Elizabeth blushed at the personal turn of their conversation, but she was curious about it at the same time. "Can I see one?"

Barbossa had anticipated that question. "They be expensive, so if I'm to show yeh, that means I'm usin' it."

Embarrassed by his bold statement, Elizabeth looked away, as her cheeks were tinted bright pink. She awkwardly picked at the hem on the bottom of her shirt. "Doesn't sound like a very pirate thing to do."

Barbossa nodded. "Aye, it's not, but I didn't want another Nathaniel."

"So, you've used one of those every time?"

Barbossa chuckled. "Not that it be any of yer business, but mostly every time, yes."

Elizabeth smirked knowingly. "So, technically, you _could_ have another Nathaniel then."

Barbossa leaned forward as his eyes twinkled deviously, choosing his next words carefully. He momentarily considered that their conversation was quickly becoming too intimate, but he wanted to see her reaction to his statement. "There be other places for a man to spill inside a woman," he told her, his voice an octave lower than usual.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, but she promptly shut it. Something told her that she'd asked enough questions for one night, and the tone of his voice made her body react in ways that she had not expected. Her cheeks were hot, and she couldn't look at him.

"I see."

Feeling a bit smug, Barbossa knew that he'd given her something to think about. "Perhaps that be enough conversation for tonight," he said. He wouldn't have minded continuing the personal conversation, but knowing him, he would want to act on it, and that just wasn't going to happen. Better to end it.

Elizabeth was still trying to figure out what he was referring to exactly, but she couldn't think clearly. "Oh…um…yes. It is getting late. See you in the morning."

Barbossa watched her leave his cabin with a satisfied gleam in his eyes. He had to admit that he thoroughly enjoyed getting her flustered. He could thoroughly enjoy other things with her, as well, but he couldn't dwell on them – they would only leave him frustrated, and he certainly didn't need more of that.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I hope you will forgive this delay. Mom passed away in February, and needless to say, I've been BUSY dealing with the aftermath of what happens when you lose a parent, emotionally, legally and otherwise. I have my hands full with Dad, and I have lots of Mom's things to deal with. I will be dealing with them for the rest of the year, actually. I also lost my job; it's both a blessing and a curse. I now have all the time I need to get done all of the important things, but I have to deal with unemployment and eventually getting another job. <strong>_

_**Anyway, I've not abandoned my story. I'm working on future chapters, so please be patient with me. The past year has been HELL. Thanks for understanding. I appreciate it.**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Reviews for a chapter are like applauding at the end of a performance - no one wants to hear crickets. - C.R. Lewis<strong>_


	6. Insult To Injury

_"What are the other places?"_

_ Barbossa wasn't sure that he heard Elizabeth correctly. "What did yeh say?"_

_ "The other places for a man to…you know."_

_ He smirked at her bold question and decided to push her boundaries. "Well, I'd really have to show yeh."_

_ Elizabeth bit her lip as she considered his request. "Okay then. Show me."_

_ Barbossa couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was it really going to be that easy with her? Certainly there was a catch somewhere. "If I do, that means yeh'll have to participate."_

_ He could see the hesitant look that danced across her face, but luckily for him, her curiosity got the better of her as it was wont to do. "Fine. What do I do?"_

_ Reaching for Elizabeth's wrist, Barbossa pulled her towards him. "Get on yer knees in front of me on the floor," he instructed. _

_ Elizabeth did as he said, but he saw how her eyes enlarged when he loosened his breeches just enough to free himself. He wrapped his hand around his length, sliding it up and down as the foreskin covered and uncovered the head repeatedly. As he watched her watching his hand, he couldn't believe that she would really do this, but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth – well, so to speak. He'd happily take whatever she would offer. _

_ "The first place is here," Barbossa told her as he ran the tip of his cock along her lips. "So, open up." She opened her mouth some, but not enough for him. "Wider." When he slid in and felt the warmth of her, he groaned. It always had been his favorite. "Close your mouth around me, but be mindful of yer teeth. Yeah. That be nice. A little faster." He could tell that she was inexperienced with such things, but he didn't mind. He'd be more than happy to let her practice on him all she wanted, in fact. "Take more of me. Good girl. Now wrap yer hand there…like that…and use both yer hand and yer mouth…mmm…exactly." He fought the urge to thrust into her mouth; it felt so damn good. She could finish him off in a couple minutes if he'd let her, but it wasn't time for that just yet – she had asked him a question, and he was answering, so he reluctantly pulled himself from the warm cocoon of her mouth. _

_ "Are yeh ready for the second?"_

_ "I agreed to it, didn't I?" she replied, wiping her lips with the back of her hand._

_ Barbossa certainly did appreciate Elizabeth's fortitude. "There will be no changin' yer mind," he warned her. "What I've started, I will finish. Do yeh understand?" When she nodded in agreement, he helped her up. "Bend over the edge of the bed." Elizabeth gave him a funny look but hesitantly complied. He reached under her to loosen her breeches and then slid them over her slim hips and down her legs. He palmed each buttock and squeezed. She could have used a bit more meat on her, but he would enjoy this regardless. He leaned over her so that he could kiss and nip at her neck while he generously licked his middle finger before slipping it between her buttocks. When he pushed against the taboo opening, Elizabeth stiffened and cried out._

_ "There?!" _

_ Barbossa chuckled, purposely allowing his weight to hold her down. "Aye, there," he confirmed, easing the tip of his finger past the ring of muscle that had clamped down on him. When Elizabeth tried to squeeze her legs together, he kicked them apart. Continuing to lick and kiss around the shell of her ear, he worked his finger in and out slowly, and it was only a minute or so before she relaxed some. _

KNOCK KNOCK.

_Barbossa looked towards the door. Who the bloody hell was bothering him now? This was not a good time._

KNOCK KNOCK.

Then he woke up.

Sporting a weeping and throbbing erection that was bordering on painful, Barbossa angrily climbed from his bed, grabbed his coat to cover himself and then stomped to the door.

Flinging it open, Barbossa growled, "Someone best be dead to be disturbin' my slumber at this hour!" It was well after midnight, and the crew knew not to disturb his sleep unless there was an extreme emergency.

Mr. Gibbs took a step backwards from the disheveled and obviously irate Barbossa. "Apologies, Cap'n, but Elizabeth fell," he explained quickly. "She thinks her ankle be sprained."

"And yeh couldn't take care of it yerself?" Barbossa barked. He had a wonderfully sordid dream that he was desperate to finish, in more ways than one.

Mr. Gibbs winced and shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "She asked for _you_, Cap'n."

Barbossa's gruff expression softened instantly upon hearing his crewman's statement. She'd asked for _him?_ "I see. Well…is her ankle wrapped yet?"

"No, Cap'n."

Barbossa nodded. "Gather some bandages and bring 'em to her cabin."

"Aye."

Mr. Gibbs set about his task while Barbossa walked the handful of steps to Elizabeth's cabin and knocked on the door.

"Yes?"

Barbossa opened the door to find Elizabeth sitting at the small table with her ankle resting on the seat of the other chair.

"What happened?" he asked, walking towards her, thankful that his physical condition from minutes ago was gone. The images, however, were not.

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. "Rope coils," she spat, crossing her arms in frustration. "I tripped on a bloody rope coil and twisted my ankle."

Barbossa recognized both her anger and embarrassment, but he found her dejectedness endearing. "What were yeh doin' out so late, anyway?" he asked curiously.

Elizabeth met his eyes, but then she looked away. There was no point going over it again – he knew what plagued her thoughts. "Couldn't sleep," she answered with a shrug.

Mr. Gibbs walked in with the bandages then. "Here yeh are, Cap'n. Want me to –"

"No. Go back to yer duties," Barbossa interrupted, taking the material from him. "I'll see to her."

"Aye, Cap'n," Gibbs replied, closing the door behind him.

Barbossa stood in front of Elizabeth and held up the bandages. "I don't suppose yeh know how to wrap a sprain?" He decided not to press the issue of why she was wandering around. At least she wasn't sobbing in the brig again.

Offering up her big, brown eyes, Elizabeth shook her head. She felt silly – she _did_ know how – but for some reason, she hoped that he'd do it for her. She knew it was ridiculous to lie about that, but she was hurt and wanted a little attention. _His_ attention if he'd give it.

Barbossa sat down across from her after picking up her foot and gently placing it into his lap. He didn't see any bruising yet, but it was swollen. Reaching for the cloth, he began to wrap it around her foot and ankle, trying to ignore the very vivid memories of his completely inappropriate yet ridiculously erotic dream about her that wanted to surface both physically and mentally.

Elizabeth had to remind herself to breathe. Barbossa's weathered and calloused hands were feather soft against her sensitive bare skin, and it was evident that he was making great effort to be gentle. Though her ankle throbbed in pain, she smiled in appreciation. And that's when he looked up.

"What's the grin for?" Barbossa asked curiously.

"Were you this careful with your son when he was a baby?"

Barbossa smiled then as he finished her wrap. "Just because I be a gruff and scabrous old pirate don't mean I can't be tender when the situation calls for it." He brazenly rubbed the pad of his thumb lightly along the bottoms of her toes and winked to punctuate his point. "Yeh'll need to stay off yer ankle for a few days to let it heal."

Elizabeth, who'd been reeling from the sensation that his brief touch upon her toes had caused, quickly snapped out of her reverie.

"A few _days_?!"

"Aye."

"But – I can't stay cooped up in here all day!"

Barbossa chuckled, placed her foot back on the table and stood up. "Then next time, yeh should watch where yer goin'," he teased. "If yeh'd been in bed where yeh belonged, this never would have happened in the first place."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and petulantly crossed her arms. Leave it to the captain to go from sweet to sour in a heartbeat. "Thanks so much for that bit of wisdom."

"Yer welcome," he said as he headed towards the door. "Now, if yeh be done hurtin' yerself, I be goin' back to bed." He opened the door and pointed to her ankle. "And keep that up."

Elizabeth sighed when he left. _This is awful_, she thought. _Now, I'm going to be stuck in here with nothing to do._ _Damn rope coil._

_Barbossa's hands sure felt nice though_, she thought, but then she shook her head. Surely she hadn't really _enjoyed_ his touch. She was missing her husband was all. She was just hungry for Will's affection.

When Elizabeth climbed into bed a few minutes later, it wasn't her husband's touch that kept her from going to sleep.

* * *

><p>The next couple days crawled by at a snail's pace for Elizabeth. She stayed in her cabin and kept her ankle elevated as much as possible. Meals were brought to her by Gibbs, and Ragetti brought her his Bible so she'd have something to read (she thanked him for his nice gesture even though she didn't intend to read it), but it was her thoughts that were the real problem.<p>

Elizabeth couldn't forget Barbossa's hands upon her skin and how fantastic they had felt no matter how hard she tried or how much she tried to think about her husband. It was as if she could still feel the warmth right then, even though it had been two days ago. It was maddening, really. She'd desperately tried to remember what Will's hands had felt like when he'd touched her, but she couldn't. That made her sad and a little confused.

And she didn't need sad and confused right now. She was already melancholy because of being stuck in the cabin and frustrated because she couldn't remember how her husband's hands felt on her body – she didn't need to add Barbossa into the mix, yet he was there, whether she liked it or not.

"Oh Will," she breathed, shaking her head. "I ruined us, didn't I?"

Remembering the moment that she'd decided Will's future, Elizabeth hung her head as the tears fell. She'd made him stab the heart because she couldn't bear the thought of him dying, effectively forcing him to have to ferry souls, whether he wanted to or not, and instead of pining away for him, she was relishing the touch of another man while he carried out the task that she'd chosen for him. She really was a horribly selfish person.

* * *

><p>Later that night, a knock on the door told her that Gibbs was there with dinner.<p>

"Feelin' all right there, Elizabeth?" he asked, handing her a plate and a mug.

"I guess," she answered with a shrug, but her despondency was obvious. "Thank you for the food."

Elizabeth picked at her food after Gibbs left; she wasn't really hungry. Too many thoughts were circling around in her head, and she was tired of them. What she wanted was rum and lots of it. _Where is Jack when you need him_, she thought lightheartedly.

An hour later, there was another knock as the captain entered, one arm purposely kept behind his back. "Gibbs bring yeh yer meal?" he asked.

"He did."

Barbossa glanced at the plate on the floor beside her bed, noting that most of the food was still on it. "Not hungry?" He'd noticed her sullen disposition the past couple days, but he'd hoped that it would work itself out. There just wasn't anything to do for a sprain but wait, unfortunately.

Elizabeth glanced down at the plate. "Not terribly," she answered, pausing to play with the frayed edge of her blanket. "I would like some rum, though."

Barbossa chuckled and shook his head. "Yeh got that from Sparrow, didn't yeh?" the captain asked rhetorically. "How about some wine instead?" He pulled his arm from behind his back to reveal a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Elizabeth smiled at his kindness. "Sounds lovely," she replied. "I need the thoughts in my head to stop."

"Aye," Barbossa nodded. "A few glasses of this will do just that." He sat down on the edge of her bed and poured a glass for each of them.

"Thank you." Elizabeth took the goblet and enjoyed a long sip of the red wine. The rich berry flavor was very pleasing to her, and she was glad that he thought to bring it. When she shifted uncomfortably, she was reminded of how tired she was of staying in bed; sitting around did not appeal to her. "How much longer will this take to heal?" she asked about her ankle.

"Depends," Barbossa answered. "Few more days maybe."

"A few _more_ days?" Elizabeth shrieked. "That's awful!" She knew that she was pouting, but she didn't care. She was miserable. Stupid rope coil. Stupid sprain. Stupid thoughts in her head.

The captain laughed at her exclamation. "Let's hope just a couple more days, aye?"

Elizabeth sighed and swung her legs over the side. "Well, I've got to get up for just a moment," she remarked. "Lying here like this is making me mental."

He knew getting up was not something that she needed to do. "What do yeh think yer doin'?"

"I'm going to stand up for just a minute," Elizabeth told him, placing her glass of wine on the small table beside the bed.

"Yeh need to stay in bed."

"I'm going to stand up and stretch."

Barbossa rolled his eyes and set his glass on the floor. He stood and offered her his arm, knowing she'd require some help. He knew better than to argue with her as her fingers curled around his forearm.

Elizabeth stood on her good foot so she could stretch her leg and back muscles while extending her other arm above her head. "Mmm…that feels much better." Unfortunately, she stretched a little too far and lost her balance. When she fell forward, the captain grabbed her to keep her from toppling over.

Elizabeth, who had grabbed onto Barbossa, as well, looked up at the captain then. The way he stared at her prevented her from looking away from him. It had been a long time since they'd been that close. His usual smug and cocky demeanor was absent, but she wasn't sure what had taken its place. She liked it, though it made her stomach feel strange.

Captain Barbossa gazed at the beautiful young woman in his arms and reveled in their unintended embrace. It had been too long for such pleasures. Curiosity shrouded her face, but she didn't pull away from him. When he realized that he wanted nothing more at that very moment than to press his lips to hers, he knew that bringing her along on his venture to the Colonies had been a bad idea. Reality hit him hard; she was naught but a girl, and he was old enough to be her father – not to mention that she was a married woman.

"Can't even stand up without falling over," Elizabeth finally spoke with an embarrassed smile. "Thank you, Captain." She let go of him and settled herself back in bed. Her heart raced as she reached for her glass of wine, and she suddenly found it difficult to look at him. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but whatever it was, it hadn't happened before.

Barbossa immediately missed her warmth. It had been easy for him to brush off Tia's advances years ago after she brought him back, but Elizabeth was another story. The softness of her skin felt like silk against his weathered flesh, and the heat that radiated off of her was more than any fire could provide. Memories of women from his past flooded his mind, and suddenly their faces were all replaced with Elizabeth's. He wanted her, but she was not available, so any efforts towards such a goal would only be foolish. And he was no fool. The madness had to stop.

"There be business for me to attend to," Barbossa stated suddenly and walked briskly for the door. He had to get away from her, and right then, before he did something that he might not regret.

In confusion, Elizabeth called out after him, but he left without acknowledging her. She really hadn't wanted him to go, especially not then. She'd been enjoying his visit.

But the door closed behind him. Elizabeth looked at his glass and wine bottle on the floor, and she realized that her heart was still beating madly. Just like with her foot, she could still feel the captain's touch, and she couldn't help but compare his with Will's. Her husband's embrace had been cautious and unsure while the captain's had been confident and strong. Elizabeth shook her head. Surely she wasn't truly attracted to the captain. Maybe it was what Jack had said; maybe she was just curious. Captain Barbossa was not exactly _handsome _per se, but his ruggedness made him quite distinguished nonetheless, when he wasn't barking orders at the crew, anyway. And she had been allowed to see a side of him that those past the door never saw. He was a pirate, yes. He could kill and plunder, but yet he was decent and honorable, too. She was beginning to understand that opposites could exist harmoniously together – one could be both good and bad at the same time.

She still didn't understand why he'd left like he had. She felt worse than she had before Gibbs brought her dinner, and she set her wine glass down on the floor beside her. She didn't want it anymore. She didn't know what she wanted.

Or maybe she did, and that was the problem.

* * *

><p>The next day passed excruciatingly slower than the previous ones had, and Elizabeth's sadness and frustration had twisted into anger. Cotton had let the bird stay with her for a little while, and later Ragetti brought little Jack by to entertain her, but the captain never visited her. She tried not to think much of it, knowing the ship demanded much of his attention, but certainly he could have taken a few minutes to check on her. She was king, after all!<p>

More than that, she thought that they had a sort of friendship. They dined together, they discussed things with each other that they didn't discuss with anyone else, and they had quite a colorful past together that she thought gave them a different relationship than either of them had with anyone else on the ship. She was hurt; she couldn't deny it. And she didn't need to feel hurt by him on top of everything else.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please don't be cross with me - I've been having an awful emotional struggle the past few months. Losing your mom is DAMN hard, and you'll never know just HOW hard until it happens. Grief is not like depression; it's a completely different game. I've had DAYS where I was just useless and incapable of doing anything but existing, and then I've had days where I'm fine. Just today, I was looking at Christmas cards, and it hit me that I would no longer be buying my usual 'parents' card. It sucks. <strong>_

_**Anyway, I do have a few chapters of this story written out that I'm working on editing, so hopefully I'll have another in the next few weeks. As those who have followed my stories previously know...it may take me a while to post, but when I do, it will be worth it. At least, I try my best to make it worth it. **_

_**Reviews always encouraged. No one likes to hear crickets after a performance, yeah? Thanks for reading. **_


	7. The Captain's Apology

When Mr. Gibbs delivered Elizabeth's dinner the next night, she was ready to explode, demanding to know where the captain was. She'd sat for another entire day with no word from him, and she was beyond angry.

"He be in his cabin," Gibbs told her. "Said he didn't want to be disturbed."

Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Is that so? Would you please tell him that the _Pirate King_ would like to see him?"

Gibbs looked uncertain. "Er…I'm not sure…"

"Go!" Elizabeth exclaimed, pointing to the door.

"Mother's love," Gibbs muttered under his breath as he quickly left and knocked on the captain's door. He was not the smartest man on the ship, but even _he_ sensed that something was amiss between the captain and Elizabeth.

"I'm not to be disturbed," the captain called out.

"Please, Cap'n," Gibbs pushed, wringing his hat in his hands. "Elizabeth sent me."

Captain Barbossa rolled his eyes and sighed where he sat at the table. "Get in," he barked, watching as Gibbs stepped inside and remained by the closed door.

"What does the girl want now?"

"Sir, she said to tell you that the _Pirate King_ would like to see you."

"What for?"

"She didn't say, Cap'n."

Barbossa grinned in his antagonizing way. "Tell her I'm disinclined to acquiesce to her request," he instructed, noticing Gibbs' perplexed look at his reply. "Go!"

Gibbs exited the cabin quickly and went back to Elizabeth's. When he repeated what the captain had told him, she gasped.

"How dare he!" Elizabeth exclaimed, swinging her feet around and off the bed. "Help me, Mr. Gibbs. The king is going to pay the captain a visit whether he wants it or not."

"I'm not sure that you should –"

"Help me, or I'll crawl over there myself!"

Knowing better than to argue with either one of them, Gibbs put his arm around Elizabeth and helped her hop her way to the cabin. "Leave me," she instructed when they reached the captain's door. When Gibbs started to walk away, she touched his arm. "Thank you," she added with a small smile – she hadn't meant to get mad at him.

Gibbs was all too happy to leave as he didn't want to be around for the scene that would undoubtedly take place in just a matter of moments. He did think it odd that she was so upset over not seeing the captain, but he reminded himself that it wasn't his business, anyway.

Elizabeth's adrenaline was pulsing under her skin, but she was more frustrated than anything else. Not bothering to knock, she opened the door to find the captain at the table looking at maps, plotting and tracking their course to Madagascar. He looked up the second that she hopped in.

"What be the meanin' of this?" Barbossa roared, standing up, ire burning in his eyes. "Yeh can't just barge in here! Get out!"

"I will not! I'm king! I have every right to barge in here!"

"No yeh don't!"

"Yes I do!"

"I could make yeh walk the plank!"

"And I could lock you in the brig!"

Barbossa narrowed his eyes at Elizabeth. "You wouldn't dare," he growled.

Elizabeth crossed her arms and smirked. "Try me."

"Get out!" he yelled again, pointing towards the door.

"I will not!" she repeated. "You've ignored me for two days, and I want to know why!"

Barbossa clenched his fists and rolled his eyes. He should have known better than to avoid her. He should have known that the fiery side of her would win over and demand attention. He had to admit that he was surprised, though. He didn't think that she cared about his company all that much, and that notion doused some of his earlier fire. "Did I not send over food and drink for yeh?" he barked. "I even sent Jack over to keep yeh company."

"The monkey as company?" Elizabeth scoffed. "Oh, please! Don't insult me so."

Overwhelmed with frustration at trying to stay away from someone that he wanted so badly, Barbossa stormed over to her in his uneven stomp. "I don't have to send over anythin', yeh know," he told her, voice low. "I could just let yeh sit over there with nothin'. Better yet, I could make yeh hobble around all day and still work."

Elizabeth knew that he was just trying to rattle her. "No, you wouldn't," she argued, narrowing her eyes.

"No?" Barbossa repeated, stepping even closer to her. "Would yeh like me to prove it? I'll put yeh to work out there right now! Make yeh work all through the night and all day tomorrow, too!"

Elizabeth dropped her arms in exasperation. "I just…I've sat in a small, dark room for five days now with nothing to do and no one around," she lamented, voice quieter. "I thought…since I was stuck in my cabin…maybe you'd come visit me. You haven't been by in two days." She closed her eyes briefly before meeting his. "I don't really talk to anyone else, at least, not about the things that we talk about."

Barbossa sighed heavily again. He could not bring himself to continue to be mean to her. It almost sounded as if Elizabeth had missed him. Surely it was the drink. Or the heat. She wasn't thinking clearly. Or maybe she was. He'd never known her to have anything but a level, logical head about her, although others would have argued that point, so maybe she had been hoping to see him. A little part of him hoped so. "Yeh put yer father through hell, didn't yeh?" he asked with the slightest smile of capitulation softening his facial expression. He really didn't want to fight with her.

Elizabeth smiled, too, and answered sheepishly, "Yeah, a little I guess."

"And yeh always got yer way." It wasn't a question.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Most of the time – maybe."

"If anyone else had come stormin' into my cabin like that, king or not, I'd have given them twenty lashes for disrespect."

Elizabeth swallowed, knowing that he spoke the truth. "I meant no disrespect." And she hadn't. She just wanted to talk to him.

"Aye, I know yeh didn't," Barbossa said with a nod. "I guess yeh'd like some rum for all yer trouble."

Elizabeth grinned then, relieved that he was not going to send her away. "It would be nice," she replied, beginning to hop her way across the room to the table, already feeling better.

"Stop that hoppin'," Barbossa growled. There was no need for her to hop like a rabbit all the way to the table, so with one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, he lifted Elizabeth up with ease and carried her over, gently setting her down by the chair so she could seat herself. He refused to look at her, and he refused to think about how good it felt to hold her.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said quietly, having never been held like that in her adult life, not even by Will. And Barbossa was strong; so much more than she thought he was. It was the first time she was actually glad that her ankle was sprained, and her face flushed at her thoughts.

A bottle of rum was handed to her as Barbossa sat on the same side of the table with his own bottle. "Nothin' fancy tonight," he remarked with a grin before uncorking his bottle and drinking from it.

Elizabeth did the same and then asked, "Am I interrupting?"

Barbossa laughed heartily and shook his head. "Bit late for that question, ain't it?"

Elizabeth's cheeks felt hot again as she took another drink. She seemed to do a lot of blushing lately.

"I be chartin' our course since the crewman who was doin' it be temporarily out of commission," Barbossa continued. "A little rum and some company won't hurt, though."

"How much further to Madagascar?"

"Eh…perhaps another week," Barbossa answered, drinking more rum.

Elizabeth nodded. "You know, I can almost put my weight on my ankle now, so maybe in another day or so, I can return to my duties."

"Did Gibbs look at it?" Barbossa had told him to the day before.

"No, not since you wrapped it."

Barbossa rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "Useless, good for nothin'….hand me yer foot. Need to check that the bruise is goin' away and that there be no swellin'." And that was exactly what he hadn't wanted to do – damn Gibbs.

Elizabeth hesitated before lifting her ankle up to Barbossa's awaiting hands, remembering how it had felt the last time. Her heart rate increased as he settled her foot on his thigh just above his knee and began to unwind the bandage slowly. He placed the material in his lap and examined her ankle, balancing it in his hand and turning her foot from side to side. Her breath caught in her throat; his touch was just as powerful as it had been before, much to her dismay. Truth be known, she was starved for physical attention. She'd thought that her love for Will would be enough to tide her over, but she was quickly discovering that it wasn't. He'd shown her physical love and had then promptly left her – not of his own choice, of course, that was solely her fault – but she still craved human touch. She wondered how she could ignore her feelings and desires when they were so strong and how she could to do it for seven more years. That was an awfully long time.

"Looks like I be gettin' a crew member back soon," Barbossa commented, interrupting her thoughts. "Bruise is nearly gone, and there not be any swellin'."

When Barbossa reached for the material to rewrap her ankle again, Elizabeth quickly asked, "Could you…keep doing what you were doing…just for a minute?" She couldn't believe she'd actually said it, but she couldn't take it back. It was out before she could change her mind. His touch just felt so damn good; she had to have a little more.

Barbossa's eyes questioned hers only briefly before looking down at her foot still resting on his leg. He began sliding his hand lightly along the top of her foot, wishing that he could touch her entire body. He looked up and found she was watching him intently, and he held her gaze for a moment. It was quite a bold request from a married woman, but he wasn't all that surprised. Elizabeth was a vibrant young lady without her husband to take care of her needs. He looked back down at her foot and continued his caresses. He'd certainly not deny her, not when he wanted it, too.

Barbossa's touch sent chills through her and awoke longings that only her husband had done previously. Never did she think that Barbossa would be capable of making her feel that way and certainly not from simply rubbing her foot. Maybe she was going mad. If she was, then gods be damned, because she was thoroughly enjoying it. She closed her eyes to enjoy the moment, certain that there would not be another like it. Three years had been a long time.

"Does this bring yeh pleasure?" Barbossa asked, his usually gruff voice a gravelly caress. It was certainly bringing _him_ pleasure; almost too much.

Elizabeth nodded, but she didn't open her eyes. "It does," she answered quietly. She felt as if she were confessing a sin to the devil himself. She told herself that it was wrong, but it didn't feel wrong – it felt wonderful.

Elizabeth's milky white skin under his hands was intoxicating, and Barbossa was thankful that he was sitting down to hide the physical effect of said intoxication. While Elizabeth was young, she was what every lady should be, at least in his opinion, and he told himself that he should not have treated her rudely like he had earlier. His attraction was not her fault therefore he couldn't punish her by ignoring her.

Barbossa cleared his throat. "I…_apologize_…for my avoidance the past couple days," he offered to her. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd apologized to anyone. Elizabeth was not just anyone, though, and he wouldn't pretend that she was.

At that statement, Elizabeth's eyes opened and met with his. "Thank you, Captain," she replied with a smile. Secretly, it made her heart leap that he'd apologized, for she knew it to be a rare occurrence. "And I apologize for storming in like I did. I shouldn't have done that."

Barbossa chuckled softly. "Somethin' tells me it won't be the last time," he commented, gently kneading the ball of her foot. When she moaned, he stopped and looked up at her. "Did that hurt?"

Elizabeth's face was scarlet; she hadn't intended to moan audibly. "I'm sorry – no…it…I –" she stammered in embarrassment and looked down into her lap. Perhaps she shouldn't have asked him to continue rubbing her foot; it was starting to feel rather intimate.

"So, it felt good then," Barbossa concluded, continuing to massage her foot. He was happy to hear that – he wished to provide even more pleasure for her if only she'd allow it. He knew he could make her feel things that the whelp hadn't even come close to.

Elizabeth nodded, but she didn't look up. Maybe she should get up & return to her room. Maybe –

"Are yeh ashamed to allow yerself pleasure?" Barbossa asked boldly. She'd proven tonight that not only had she missed his company but that she wanted his touch, as well, so he was sure that meant something. Maybe it was time to push their boundaries.

Elizabeth hesitantly lifted her guilt ridden eyes. "Well, I…I _am_ married, but you're not my husband…so shouldn't I be?" She was more confused than ever. She often thought that she should have just married Norrington and lived happily ever after as a commodore's wife.

Barbossa studied the porcelain color of her flesh and soft lines of her foot. "Pleasure is a rare gift, Elizabeth," he answered. "I suffered for many years without it, and if Turner thinks that a nubile and voracious woman like you will be content to find pleasure once every ten years, he's a fool. Humans have needs that will be met one way or another. To deny them is to deny yer very existence." His steely eyes lifted to hers. "And I don't think that yeh be the type lass to deny yer very existence."

"I…well…I'm not sure."

Barbossa grinned. "Yes yeh are; yeh just can't admit it to yerself yet."

"And I suppose you'll be there when I can?" she quipped. She wondered if they were discussing what she thought they were discussing. She felt like she'd just walked the plank and was staring down at the water, contemplating jumping and what the consequences would be if she did.

"Elizabeth, I be a scallywag. With little more than a nod, you'd be naked and underneath me on my bed. I've no reason to pretend otherwise."

Elizabeth swallowed thickly, not prepared for his forthrightness, though she should have expected it. "So you…you'd just take any female that was willing then?" She wasn't sure why she asked that except that she wanted to keep talking to cover up her nervousness. She was still trying to process his comment. _Naked and underneath me on my bed_ – the image in her mind was quite vivid. She did _not_ need vivid.

"Yeh know, there was a time when I wasn't none too picky," Barbossa replied honestly. "But ever since comin' back, I've not been quite so eager."

"So there hasn't been as many?"

Barbossa blinked. "As many what?"

"Women." Elizabeth knew that it was an intensely personal topic, but she was curious about the answer. _And he brought it up, anyway_, she told herself.

Barbossa looked away. He hadn't expected her to ask him _that_, though he should have known better, nosey wench that she was. He mumbled a response, but she didn't hear him.

"Pardon?"

"None!" Barbossa snapped in annoyance, more at himself than at her. "There's been _none_."

Elizabeth's eyes enlarged. "But why? You just said – "

"I know what I said," Barbossa barked, suddenly feeling like a caged animal. He carefully removed her foot from his lap so he could stand and then took a couple steps away from the table. He wasn't sure why he told her that there hadn't been anyone. It was really none of her business whom he bedded or didn't bed. He supposed the line of propriety between them had been crossed long ago, though. And perhaps there was a tiny part of him that had wanted her to know.

"I don't understand," Elizabeth said quietly as she watched him, already missing the warmth of his touch. "I thought – when you made port – that…"

Purposely facing away from her, Barbossa reluctantly decided to be honest with her; he didn't have much of a choice, really. "I'd gone so long without the proper sense of touch that I wanted that first experience to be somewhat…significant." Barbossa turned around and waved his hand in frustration. "Go ahead. Laugh. I know how pathetic it sounds."

Elizabeth smiled sweetly, and her heart went out to the captain. Before her was a man who had experienced life and death in the most horrible ways. He'd been alive, but without the senses to enjoy living; no touch, no taste, no nothing. It had been an empty existence, but existing still, tortuously so. Then he'd died for real, and no one knew how, but he'd returned to a life that he hadn't known in a long time. He could taste and touch and smell again, but better yet, he'd gotten a second chance. His experiences had obviously made him think twice about his decisions, and that's what made him a great captain. "Are you saying that you're sort of waiting for the right one?" she asked, batting her eyes at him good-naturedly. She'd never thought more of him than she did right then.

Barbossa smirked, relieved that she wasn't doubled over in laughter. He knew how such a statement sounded coming from him. "Nay, but I was hopin' for somethin' other than a trick turned by a dock walker. I be gettin' mighty tired of waitin', though. I didn't really think that it would take this long." He hadn't tried all that hard, to be honest. He figured that it would just happen eventually, but he was getting mighty close to changing his mind.

The subject made Elizabeth remember her dream which led her to thinking about when she was at Isla de Muerta with the captain originally. A question had plagued her for years, and she thought then was as good a time as any to ask it. "Why did you only cut my hand in that cave?" She looked at her palm to see the scar that he'd left. "I thought for sure that you were going to – " She couldn't finish her statement; she knew he'd understand.

Barbossa nodded as the memory came flooding back from what seemed like another lifetime. He supposed it had been in a way. "Won't necessary to," he answered with a shrug. "And it would've been bloody foolish of me. I was lookin' forward to the curse bein' lifted." He cocked one eyebrow and decided to test her resolve. "I had other plans for yeh, as it were."

"Like what?" Elizabeth asked innocently.

Barbossa glanced at the bed, then back at her and lifted both eyebrows.

When Elizabeth followed his gaze to his bed, her eyes grew wide in surprise.

"You most certainly would not have – "

"Aye," Barbossa confirmed with a grin. "Right there in the cave on all of the cursed gold and silver."

Elizabeth remembered that that's exactly how her dream had been, acutely aware that her heart rate had sped up once more. He was a pirate, yes, but she found it hard to believe that he would have forced himself upon her. "What if I'd said no?"

"I would have persuaded yeh." And then Barbossa winked at her.

"You're despicable," Elizabeth insulted affectionately, shaking her head. She assumed that he was teasing her, but a small part of her wondered what he really would have done – and what she would have let him do.

Barbossa chuckled. "Pirate," he replied simply. "Now, off to bed." Their chat needed to end before one of them embarrassed themselves – probably him.

Elizabeth stood with no argument and began to hop towards the door, but she quickly found herself scooped up in the captain's arms again. And she minded not.

"Carrying me to bed, are you, Captain?" Elizabeth teased, her fingers laced around his neck as they exited his cabin.

Crossing the threshold of her cabin and heading for her bed, Barbossa replied, "Usually, I join the lass when I carry her to bed, but I suppose that I can make an exception this one time." He gently placed Elizabeth on her feather mattress, but he did not stand. His hands remained firmly planted on the bed behind her back and under her knees as he purposely invaded her personal space. "However, next time I carry yeh to bed, I be joinin' yeh."

Elizabeth blushed furiously as he held her gaze, and she knew by his tone of voice that he wasn't kidding. The playful glint that had previously twinkled in his eyes had also disappeared. "I'll keep that in mind, Captain," she responded, her voice unsure and quiet. While she'd only been with one man, she knew desire when she saw it, and her throat was suddenly bone dry. He was looking at her as if she were a buffet of food spread upon a dinner table, and she was both scared and intrigued at the thought of sharing a bed with him.

"See that yeh do," Barbossa stated before standing and quickly returning to his cabin. He had a pressing matter that needed his immediate attention, namely his hand.

* * *

><p><strong><em>My goal was to get one more chapter posted before the holidays, and here it is! Yay! Hope you like. Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated!<em>**

**_Hope everyone has a great holiday season. This year has been hard for me, so I'll admit that I'm not feeling very festive. I'm looking forward to 2014, though; lots of good stuff going on!_**

**_Special thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: booda77, Preciossa, lostsocks54, Bloodsired, BrunetteAuthorette99. SeaChange79 and poty90_. _You all rock._**


	8. Keep Your Honor

Elizabeth returned to her duties a couple days later, favoring her ankle only a little. Her thoughts, however, were plagued by her recent conversations with Barbossa. He didn't disguise the fact that he wanted her, and while it disturbed her on one level, it relieved her on another. There had been so many coy games with Will, practically from the day they'd met, and they had kept her frustrated with him. She remembered over half a dozen times when she'd wanted to just grab him and kiss him whenever & wherever they were because she'd been so tired of waiting for him to make a move. Not that she'd been interested in Norrington, but if she had been, she was sure that he would have been the same way.

Jack had been open with his wants, but somehow Elizabeth thought that she could trust Barbossa more. It was absurd, she knew – they were both pirates, after all – but Jack had proven that he would always put himself first even at the peril of his crew while Barbossa had done just the opposite. And besides that, Barbossa had come looking for _her_ to join him on his journey to the Colonies (at least, she hoped he'd made the trip to Shipwreck Island for more than just careening the ship). Jack hadn't sought her out for anything.

Elizabeth's thoughts returned to Will. She loved him; she truly did. She was his wife and, while their vows had been extensively curtailed, they still included – in her mind – a vow of fidelity, and she was positive that Will thought the same. She couldn't deny that ten years was a very long time, though. She allowed herself to think about that for a few moments. Every ten years. If she lived to be sixty or so that meant that she would see her husband four or five more times in her life.

_Wait._ Elizabeth paced in her cabin as thoughts swirled around in her garbled mind. _Four or five more times_ _in my entire life?_ Remembering Barbossa's caresses made her hang her head in confusion, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her upper body. Maybe she and Will should have discussed the separation before he'd left. She wondered if Barbossa was right; if Will would assume that she wouldn't deny herself physical pleasure for all those years in between visits or if he would think that she would happily do without and wait for him. As she continued pacing, she thought about his crew aboard _The Flying Dutchman_. They were mostly men, but a couple women had been revealed when Will took over and the curse lifted from the ship. _Will he be drawn to them when his needs became too much? Or will he be able to wait for me? _She thought about Will being with someone else, maybe one of those women. There was a part of her that didn't like it, but then she realized how much of a hypocrite that made her. If she was thinking of being with someone else, then certainly he could, too. He deserved pleasure the same as her. She racked her brain trying to figure out why they should they suffer when apart. They'd definitely suffered enough as it was the past couple years. Couldn't they enjoy the comfort of someone else while waiting for each other? She let out an anguished groan in the small cabin; God help her – she sounded like a pirate! They were _married_, and regardless of the circumstance, _of course_ they couldn't enjoy another's comfort. That was the whole point of being married!

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head as she continued pacing. It was all so complicated. The past six years of her life had been nothing but complicated, and she grew weary of it. She hadn't wanted to give up the sea completely, but after Will left to do the job that she had forced him into, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She'd told herself that after all the events that had taken place – losing her home, losing her father, nearly losing her life – she'd wanted something a little easier for a change, something sort of normal.

_You had easy and 'sort of' normal at Shipwreck Island_, a voice reminded her. _And you were bored out of your mind. You were positively miserable._

Elizabeth couldn't argue with herself. It was true; she had been miserable, but it didn't mean that she wanted to go from one extreme to the other, either.

_What extreme_, the voice continued. _Barbossa hasn't asked you for your hand or anything else. He's just offered his bed, in a sense. He's not making this complicated – you are. He's not talked of love or commitment. You're the one getting caught up in all that because of Will. Technically, you're married, yes, but what kind of marriage is it, really? Did either of you even marry for the right reasons?_

Elizabeth sat down on the end of her bed with a huff. Barbossa hadn't offered her anything more than his physical comfort. Well, he hadn't really _offered_ it, exactly, but she knew that if she crawled into his bed, he wouldn't kick her out. Her marriage didn't bother him in the slightest. She was the one trying to make it more than it was.

Elizabeth wondered if Barbossa's words of abstinence since rejoining the living were true. He easily could have made up an answer, but he hadn't. She also knew that he was not the type to use lies to woo and persuade women into his bed. He was wily, yes, but he didn't seem to be a spark with women; he was just too blunt for such charms.

So, what he'd told her had to be truth then, though a seemingly odd truth. Elizabeth remembered his comment of "_with little more than a nod, you'd be naked and underneath me on my bed_" and wondered if he'd meant right then or after he'd had his 'first'. Maybe he would consider her for that first. A part of her was flattered by that idea, if he was, because she understood all too well the 'waiting' part, and she knew that for a pirate, that sort of gallantry was nonexistent. Barbossa, she'd learned, was unlike most pirates, though, and he did a good job of disguising it. Elizabeth had to admit, whether she liked it or not, that she was seriously considering allowing Captain Hector Barbossa to plunder a bit more than the English ships they'd surely encounter, and that didn't bother her as much as she thought – and hoped – that it would.

* * *

><p>Barbossa restricted his communication with Elizabeth for three days. He had to force himself not to stare at her during the day, but with the way her brunette tendrils blew gently about her face from the sea breeze when she wore her hair loose, that task was damn near impossible. She was a beautiful lass, yet she was no primadonna. Elizabeth was braver than a lot of the men he'd known, and she was ten times feistier, as well. She reminded him quite a bit of Catherine in that way. The mother of his son had not taken lip from anyone. She'd been kind and pleasant until wronged, and then she'd had no problem putting someone back in line. Most of the women that Barbossa had met over the years had mainly been one extreme or the other, and he detested that, hence why he'd chosen to remain alone; one of the reasons, anyway.<p>

Elizabeth also hadn't told Barbossa to shove off. He'd tried convincing himself that stopping by Shipwreck Island had been coincidental, but it hadn't. It had been a purely selfish indulgence. He'd missed her presence on the ship, and he'd decided to see if she wanted to go with him to the Colonies, fairly certain that she would. He'd missed _her_, plain and simple, and when he'd seen how forlorn she was there with Teague, it had created the opportunity that he'd been hoping for to get her back on the ship.

Then after Elizabeth had boarded the ship, Barbossa's desire for her flared up again like whale oil thrown on a fire, and he couldn't continue to ignore it, wrong or not. He was a pirate; he didn't care that he'd married her to Turner. He wanted her, and if she'd let him, he'd have her. The curious thing was that when he decided to be a bit brash with her, she didn't put him back in his place, as she easily could have – _should_ have even. He'd noticed the apprehensive looks and the scarlet upon her cheeks in response to his comments – he'd been with enough women to know what it meant. She was having longings, same as him, but her marriage was preventing her from acting on them.

Barbossa smirked where he sat in bed trying to read. _Except when she asked me to continue rubbing her foot the other night, _he thought smugly. That request had been more than bold coming from a married woman. It was also the night that he'd essentially told her that he'd accept her in his bed any time. It hadn't surprised her; it had been a statement of the obvious, really. She was young and beautiful; any virile man with a sane mind would accept her in his bed.

Carrying Elizabeth to bed had been another completely selfish indulgence, Barbossa had to admit. He didn't _have_ to place her on the bed like he had, but he'd _wanted_ to. The look in her eyes had been unmistakable. She had not gazed upon him with disgust as a proper married woman should have; she'd gazed upon him with curiosity as a new lover might. It had been some time since a woman had looked at him in that way, and he couldn't help but want more. Underneath his layers of daggers and pistols and scars and such, he was only a man that wanted what every other man wanted – genuine attentions from a pretty lass.

With that thought, Barbossa decided to see where Elizabeth was. She was much more interesting than the book he'd been trying to read. It was quite late, but he'd heard the soft click of her door earlier, so he knew she was out of her cabin. Reaching for his hat, he headed for the deck.

It didn't take him long to spot Elizabeth. She was standing on the quiet and deserted deck barefoot (which he'd told her not to do a dozen times) wearing only her long, white nightgown – _God help him_ – with her arms on the railing, gazing out over the ocean like she often did, and her hair hanging loose, waving ever so slightly from the sea breeze. He knew that the water calmed her mind, as it did his – it was just one reason why they were both drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

"Can't sleep again?" Barbossa asked as he purposely stood behind her, feeling a little more daring than usual.

It took a moment for Elizabeth to reply as her mind was a maelstrom of thoughts that twisted and churned dangerously. She'd been hoping that he would remain in his cabin while she was out of hers, but she should have known better. "Sleep is often overrated," she remarked quietly. It seemed to be for her, anyway.

Barbossa took a step closer, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around her as he wanted to do. Everyone was asleep except for Morley up in the Crow's Nest, so they were alone on the deck. "What plagues yer thoughts this night?" he asked, assuming that she would say her husband. He was almost sorry that he asked.

Elizabeth sighed. "You are."

"Me?" Barbossa repeated, quite surprised by her admission, yet pleased at the same time. "To what do I owe the honor?" It was a genuine question; he was not teasing. He'd not even considered that _he_ was on her mind.

Elizabeth hadn't planned on confessing her thoughts to the salty pirate, but she couldn't find a reason not to, either. "It's just…I don't…you – " she stammered, not exactly sure how to reply to his question. "You confuse me, is all." That was a safe and simple answer, and it summed up her feelings perfectly.

Ah. So he _was_ getting to her. Barbossa didn't even try to stop the smile that appeared on his face as he stood behind her. "May I ask how I have confused yeh so I might try to un-confuse yeh?" It was a noble gesture; Barbossa was nothing if helpful.

Elizabeth bit her lip, wondering just how much she should reveal. It was times like those when she wished her mother had been around when she was growing up. Part of her forthrightness was because she knew no better and because she'd grown up around men, mostly those in the Royal Navy under the direction of her father. Her tutor had taught her how to behave properly in public, but she'd never addressed how to behave in private, especially with the opposite sex, because it had been assumed Elizabeth would marry and that would be that – only it wasn't.

"You make me feel things that are very difficult not to…think about," she finally admitted, her voice soft in the black of night around them. "You can be quite vexing, you know."

Barbossa smiled even more. He'd thought _she'd_ been the vexing one. He was almost afraid to think that she might be considering giving in to her wants. "I do not purposely vex," he stated truthfully.

Elizabeth smiled then as she gazed out across the dark, churning ocean, thankful that he couldn't see her. "I know you don't. You're just being you."

Barbossa stepped close enough to place his hands on either side of her forearms where they rested on the ledge and leaned in so that his mouth was beside of her ear. "So, what do we do with yer confusion and my vexing?" he asked quietly, noticing that she did not move when he closed her in. She didn't even flinch.

Elizabeth hadn't been prepared to feel Barbossa's warm breath tickle her ear as he spoke, and it was all she could do to _not_ moan and lean back against him. She told herself that she should push him away and tell him that their behavior was all sorts of wrong and had to stop, but the words never formed past being just thoughts in her mind.

_You can't tell him that because that's not what you want_, her inner voice chimed. _Curiosity has always gotten the better of you. You've never been good at self-restraint, and you likely never will be._

So, the question remained; what _were_ they going to do?

"I suppose that's what I've been trying to figure out," Elizabeth answered, closing her eyes when she felt Barbossa gently lean his head against hers.

"So, yeh haven't come to a conclusion then?" he asked, purposely allowing his breath to ghost across her ear again as he spoke. Her hesitation gave him hope, he had to admit, so he wanted to make sure she had plenty to think about.

Elizabeth's entire body tingled with undeniable desire for the man who all but had his arms wrapped around her there on the deck. Barbossa had never been that close to her before – not in that intimate sort of way; the bathhouse situation had been forced – but that moment was of their own choosing. She quickly discovered that it was not at all awkward like she'd thought – _hoped_ – it would be. Instead, his presence was comfortable, soothing and familiar. It was maddeningly unhelpful.

"I have not," she answered. The shakiness in her voice was most revealing, and Elizabeth wondered if it even mattered at that point. Everything was in place for them – all she had to do was say yes. Or nod. She was sure that would be enough.

"I see," Barbossa spoke in nearly a whisper. He turned his head so that his lips just barely brushed the sensitive shell of her ear, and he tried not to grin when he heard her soft gasp. "I must thank yeh for the consideration then, aye?"

And with that, Elizabeth felt the immediate loss of his body heat that had been warming her as she heard him walk back to his cabin, and she shivered in the damp air. His presence had been welcome – she couldn't deny that – and she'd enjoyed his embrace. She'd wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrap around her where she stood, and if he'd remained there much longer, she was afraid that she would have given in. In fact, she grew closer and closer to giving in every day.

_What am I going to do_, she mentally lamented and dropped her forehead to the railing.

* * *

><p>Barbossa thought long and hard about Elizabeth's revelation on the deck. If he'd been a proper gentleman, he might have curbed his actions or guarded his speech as not to add to her dilemma. Because he was a pirate, because he wanted her and because she seemed to want him in return, he would do neither of those things. Instead, he decided to make it a point to see her multiple times a day, to stand closer to her than he would have otherwise and to dine with her each night. Elizabeth had made her decision – he was only providing her motivation for seeing it through because he was helpful like that.<p>

* * *

><p>Four days had passed since Elizabeth confessed her confusion to Barbossa, and she was even more confused. It seemed like he was there every time she turned around. She would have thought he was doing it on purpose, but most of the time, he didn't look at her or speak to her. She told herself that she was being silly – they were confined on a ship – seeing him throughout the day was expected and normal.<p>

Currently, Elizabeth sat on a crate in their makeshift stockroom having checked their food and supplies. She'd needed time to think, and her task had allowed for just that.

She'd been driving herself mad trying to determine what would happen if she actually shared a bed with Barbossa, and so far, she hadn't been able to come up with a single thing. It wouldn't change her love Will. It wouldn't alter their separation in any way. It wouldn't change anything with Barbossa. So, what _would_ change?

She continuously reminded herself of their vows – shortened though they were – but then she realized something. She was driving herself mad about a non-spoken and assumed vow when Will wasn't around for the only actual spoken one they'd had – 'in sickness and health'. They were separated for ten years – they couldn't keep _any_ of their vows, spoken or not. Certainly that made a difference, didn't it? What made one vow more important than another when they couldn't keep any of them?

"There be our king."

Barbossa's words startled Elizabeth, who didn't hear his approach, and she jumped up from the crate.

"You scared me," she admitted, trying to calm her heart. It always raced when he was around, it seemed.

"Apologies," Barbossa replied with a smirk as he walked towards her, the plume of his hat bouncing slightly with each step.

Elizabeth was rooted where she stood as she watched him. The determined look on his face as he steadily approached unnerved her, but when she tried to step backwards, she was stopped by the stack of barrels behind her.

"Wh-what are you – " she stammered nervously as he stopped directly in front of her, his steely eyes never leaving hers. She held her breath in anticipation as the distance between them began to disappear.

"Just came to get somethin' that I've wanted for a while," he told her, purposely leaning close as if to kiss her, but then he reached into the bin beside her and grabbed a shiny, green apple. "Yeh know how much I like these juicy apples," he added, tossing it up and catching it.

When Barbossa bit into the apple and turned to leave, Elizabeth finally started breathing again. She'd thought that he'd been reaching for more than a piece of fruit. She shook her head and sat back down. Actually, a tiny part of her was disappointed that he _had_ been after just the fruit.

Damn.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Elizabeth joined Barbossa for dinner as she had for the past few nights. They sat where they usually did, discussed their normal topics – nothing was out of the ordinary. They'd shared some wine, as well, so Elizabeth was quite relaxed when she announced that she was going to bed.<p>

In an effort to help with her 'confusion', Barbossa walked Elizabeth to the door, something that he'd never done. When she reached for the metal knob, he gently took her hand and lifted it to his mouth. He pressed his lips to the top of it and then turned her hand over so that he could place another kiss in her palm. The look of shock on her face was exquisite, and he narrowly resisted the urge to press her against the door in a feverish kiss.

"Sleep well, m'lady," he said, opening the door for her.

Unable to speak, Elizabeth returned to her room dumbfounded. She sat down on her bed and stared at her palm for over ten minutes.

* * *

><p>The next evening, Elizabeth decided that she needed a break from her thoughts. They were about to get her in serious trouble, and after the captain's behavior the previous night, she knew that that trouble wasn't far off. She quickly found the rum stashed in the back corner of the stockroom and helped herself. She only wanted a little – just enough to stop her crazy thoughts. Once she'd silenced them, she'd go back to her cabin and go to bed.<p>

Barbossa was irritated. Elizabeth never showed for dinner. He'd finally given up waiting for her and finished his food. The least she could have done was let him know that she wouldn't be there. He hadn't asked her to dinner, but he hadn't asked her the past number of nights, either; she'd just showed up. He didn't think that he had to ask anymore.

A knock disrupted his caustic thoughts.

"What?" he barked.

Gibbs entered. "Cap'n, Elizabeth be down in the stockroom," he shared. "She's – uh – had a bit of rum."

Barbossa narrowed his eyes. "And what would yeh have me do about it?"

"She's drank a lot, Cap'n. Singin' and everythin'. Should I just leave her there?"

Barbossa snorted and looked away with a shake of his head, wondering if her 'marks' were upsetting her again. At least it explained why she wasn't at dinner. "No, Gibbs. If she's had that much, she'll need to be helped to her cabin," he said wearily. "I'll fetch her."

Barbossa muttered to himself the entire way. "Drinkin' in the stockroom…what be wrong with that lass…sittin' and waitin' to eat me own dinner while she gets herself loaded to the gunwalls…blasted woman king…ought to leave her down there with the bilge rats."

He stomped his way down the wooden steps into the dark room lit by only one lantern, and that's when he heard her.

"…and pilfer, we filch and sack. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. Maraud and embezzle and – "

"Elizabeth," Barbossa interrupted as he walked around a stack of crates so that she could see him. She'd been sitting on the floor, swaying back and forth while she sang, and he wasn't sure if he was mad or amused. "What are yeh doin'?"

Elizabeth looked up at the captain and smiled. "I'm singing a pirate song because I am indeed a pirate and a scallywag," she told him, waving her bottle of rum. "And what are _you_ doing?"

Trying not to laugh, Barbossa answered, "Taking you back to yer cabin."

Elizabeth pouted. "But I like it here. Can't I stay? I have more verses to sing."

"No. You missed dinner, and you should be in yer cabin. Let's go."

Elizabeth didn't fight as Barbossa helped her to her feet. She stumbled up the steps until he grew tired of her jelly legs and picked her up. He carried her all the way back to her cabin, closing the door behind them with his boot.

With half-lidded eyes, Elizabeth looked at Barbossa and giggled. "Does this mean you're joining me?"

Barbossa was surprised that she'd remembered what he'd told her previously in her current state, but it gave him an idea. "I did warn yeh 'bout the next time I carried yeh to bed, didn't I?" He reached the bed and placed her on it, keeping his arms around her. "And I be a man of honor. Yeh wouldn't want me to compromise me honor, now would yeh?"  
>Elizabeth giggled again and shook her head. "Oh no; honor is very important. You must keep your honor, Captain."<p>

Barbossa knew that he could have taken full advantage of Elizabeth in her drunken state, but he didn't want a union with her to happen like that where she might not even remember it later. He could still join her, though, as he'd told her he would. It would certainly make for an interesting morning.

"Then keep me honor I will," Barbossa said, taking off her boots and getting her settled under the sheets before he took off his own and lay down beside her on top of the sheet. He didn't make a move towards her – just remained still. It was only a few minutes until her breathing grew heavy and his followed suit.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I forgot to tell you all last chapter that I created a Twitter account just for my fanfic - VelvetStormFF. I post updates and chapter teases, and I plan to share some of my favorite fanfic stories, too. Give me a follow &amp; I'll do the same. <strong>_

_**Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: Preciossa, Bloodsired, BrunetteAuthorette99, Aelly, one guest who didn't leave a name and UbiquitousPitt. I say it every chapter, but feedback is what keeps me going. Let me know what you liked, what you didn't like or ask me questions. Write one line or a paragraph - it's all appreciated!**_

_**I wanted to get this chapter posted by Valentine's Day...and I'm EARLY! Woo hoo! Go me!**_

_**Oh...and I took a literary liberty...when the curse is lifted from the Flying Dutchman, I decided that there should be women revealed, even if just a couple. There were women pirates back then, so it made sense that there could be a couple on the ship. I didn't see Davy Jones as being the kind to let women off very easily - especially given what Calypso did to him - so even though it's not in the movie, it's in my story. I didn't think you'd mind. **_


	9. Playing With Fire

When Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open, she immediately moaned which only made her head pound harder. For a few seconds, she couldn't remember what had happened. As she continued to wake up and became more alert, memories began to flood into her sluggish brain. Leaving her cabin. Wanting to quiet her thoughts for a while. Finding the rum. _Damn. The rum._ That explained the pounding inside her skull. She'd only planned to drink enough to make her internal dialogue stop, but apparently it had required more than she'd thought it would. She felt awful.

And what a dream she'd had. Of course, it had involved Barbossa, which was not what she needed, and –

A sound from the other side of the bed made Elizabeth roll over so fast it made her head spin, and she gasped when she saw who was in bed with her. Her dream had not been a dream!

Elizabeth's heart pounded hard and fast in her chest. She quickly took inventory – she was under sheet cover while he was on top…they were both dressed…she hadn't woken up in his arms…_so hopefully that means – _

"Nothin' happened, if that's what yer tryin' to figure out," Barbossa told her through a yawn. His voice was deep and raspy, having just woke. He often didn't sleep well with someone else in his bed – years of mistrust caused that – but surprisingly, he'd slept most of the night with her.

"Then why did you sleep with me in my bed last night?" Elizabeth asked quietly, not wishing to make her headache worse, though she really wanted to yell at him.

Barbossa swung his legs over the side of the bed, slipped his boots on and stood while Elizabeth sat up slowly since her head felt like it was spinning. With his back to her, he put on his jacket and said, "Well, I recall tellin' yeh that the next time I carried yeh to bed I would be joinin' yeh. Last night, yeh could barely walk so I had to carry yeh. And yeh told me I must keep me honor, so I did." He turned around to face her. "Why were yeh splicin' the main brace, anyway?"

Elizabeth shrugged and looked down at the blanket piled in her lap. "I just wanted to quiet some thoughts was all."

Barbossa lifted one eyebrow, wondering if he'd been anywhere in those thoughts. "I see. And did it work?"

She glanced up at him and then looked away again. "Temporarily."

Barbossa smirked and placed both hands on the mattress which caught her immediate attention. "Why don't yeh think about the fact that this awful, despicable pirate didn't lay a hand on yeh all night when I could have done that and more, thanks to yer brilliant idea."

Elizabeth blushed and remained silent as Barbossa turned and walked out of the cabin.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, Ragetti brought Elizabeth her breakfast, telling her it was captain's orders to rest for a couple hours before starting on her duties since she wasn't feeling good. Just after Barbossa had left her cabin, she'd vomited – which had only served to make her feel even worse – and she'd promised herself right then that she'd never drink like that again. She still couldn't believe that she'd shared a bed with the captain the night before. Nothing could have prepared her for rolling over and seeing him there. For the briefest moment, she'd been terrified that something <em>had<em> happened, but after seeing that they were still clothed, that he wasn't under the sheet with her and that she experienced no pain in her most private area, she felt confident that he was telling the truth when he'd said that nothing had happened.

Elizabeth told herself that they could not continue like that. She couldn't pretend that she didn't have a decision to make – too many cards had been put on the table to walk away. And she couldn't continue to tell herself that she wasn't interested because she was. Their journey had only begun – they would share many nights together on the ship. She needed to decide if they'd share a bed, as well.

* * *

><p>After lunch, Elizabeth – still sporting a slight headache – found herself drowning in her thoughts once more. It had dawned on her that while betrothed to Will, she'd kissed Jack, Sao Feng <em>and<em> James. Granted, one had not been welcomed, but she'd kissed Jack willingly, and she hadn't pushed James away when he'd kissed her. None of them were situations similar to Barbossa, but all of them had happened while she was engaged to Will. Technically, she'd betrayed their vows from the beginning. That realization was not what she needed.

But then she remembered how angry she'd been with Will when he'd left her out of the plans with Sao Feng. She'd never thought he'd do such a thing – which was completely hypocritical of her, she knew – but it had shown her that he could be deceitful, too. He could be selfish, just like her. Maybe it was time to stop making things so complicated. Neither of them was perfect, and both of them had proven it many times over.

Suddenly, Elizabeth wasn't as confused as she had been.

* * *

><p>When she joined the captain for dinner later, Elizabeth was feeling much better, both physically and mentally. Her mind had finally stopped waging war against her – even if only temporary – and the situation with Barbossa seemed much less daunting. Apparently, it was noticeable.<p>

"What has yeh in such an agreeable mood tonight?" Barbossa asked after they'd finished eating. It was nice to see her looking relaxed for a change, even though it was a bit of a surprise.

"Not sure," Elizabeth answered with a shrug. "Perhaps waking up with a man in my bed had something to do with it."

One eyebrow lifted in response to her coquettish comment and playful tone of voice. Barbossa briefly wondered if she'd finally decided to forget her whelp husband for a while. "That so? Maybe we should consider makin' the arrangement permanent then, after all, it is my responsibility to make sure the king's stay aboard is as pleasant as it can be."

"Is it now?" Elizabeth was flirting with him as she sipped her wine, but for a change, she was all right with it.

"It is, and I take me responsibilities quite serious, as yeh know."

"Yes, you do," Elizabeth agreed. "It's lucky that I'm king then, isn't it? You would have looked rather silly in my bed if I was male, aye?"

Barbossa chuckled. He liked this version of her and hoped it would remain around a while. "If yeh were male, I would not have been in yer bed," he clarified.

Elizabeth set her glass down and looked at him squarely with a twinkle in her eye. "Oh I see. So because I'm a female king, I get special treatment?"

"Aye. And if you'd let me, you could have extra special treatment."

A feigned expression of shock appeared on Elizabeth's face. "Why Captain, that's rather bold, isn't it?"

"You be the one that invited me into yer bed."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I did no such thing."

"Yeh didn't tell me to leave. Same thing." Barbossa wished that she'd be that playful all the time.

"I think your perspective is a little off."

Barbossa finished his sip of wine and waved the glass towards himself as he spoke. "I wasn't the one clutchin' a rum bottle and singin'."

Elizabeth's eyes enlarged; _that _was new information. "I was singing?"

Barbossa smiled at the memory. "Aye."

"I don't remember singing."

"Well yeh did."

"What was I singing?"

"Somethin' about 'drink up me hearties, yo ho'."

Elizabeth didn't remember singing, but she did know what song he was talking about. It was the one that she'd taught Jack on the beach when Barbossa deserted them years ago. Thinking about Jack caused her to remember betraying him on the _Pearl _which brought her round to her thoughts from earlier in the day.

"I've already betrayed him, you know." Her playful tone was gone.

Barbossa's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Pardon?"

"Will. I've already betrayed him with three other men."

Barbossa had no idea what she was on about, but his curiosity was thoroughly piqued. "Praytell, Elizabeth."

"You know Jack went to the locker because of me," Elizabeth began. "But what you don't know is how. He'd been rather brazen with me on the ship – offered to marry us even – and I took advantage of him. He deserted us when the Kraken attacked, and even though he returned, I was furious with him for having left, and I knew that the Kraken would come after him – after all of us – so I lied…I told him thank you – told him that I always knew he was a good man. Then I kissed him. I kissed him hard with more passion than I'd ever kissed anyone before so that I could catch him off guard and shackle him to the ship."

Barbossa's eyebrows lifted. Not much surprised him, but her confession had. "I'd always wondered about that," he admitted, finding a tiny bit of perverse pleasure in her story. "But who were the others?"

"You remember when Sao Feng invited me to dinner?" Barbossa nodded. "Just before he made me captain, he'd kissed me, intending to do much more than that."

"I'm not surprised. I remember the gleam in his eyes." Barbossa shook his head. "Suppose yeh have Turner to thank for that."

Elizabeth started to protest, but she realized that she couldn't. "I guess that's true," she said with a shrug. "I never thought about that. Then kissing James was his fault, too – sort of."

"Who?"

"James Norrington. He was Commodore of Port Royal before losing the position, but he was also the one that helped us escape from the _Dutchman_," Elizabeth explained. "I panicked – I told him to come with us, but he refused. When he told me that our paths had always been intersected but never joined and then kissed me, I was surprised, but I didn't fight it. Then Will's father discovered what he'd done and – since he was still under the ship's curse at the time – he stabbed James."

"Seems yeh've kissed all the captains but me," Barbossa teased, choosing to steer the conversation away from their muddled past. "I say we remedy this travesty at once. Yer cabin or mine?"

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. "It certainly doesn't make me look very good, does it? Here I am all concerned about Will and our relationship, and I kissed three men _before_ we even married."

Barbossa shrugged. "It don't bother me none. All of us did what was necessary at the time."

Elizabeth sipped her wine, thankful again for his lack of reaction to her behavior. She didn't want to talk about her past anymore and decided to change the subject. "Do you ever have regrets?"

Barbossa immediately shook his head. "Nay. I don't allow it. They be pointless. We only have right now – right this very minute – in which to live. And after bein' dead like I was – well, nothin' can be that bad. I'm thankful for every day that I have because I know what it's like to not have it, and I know how quickly it can be taken away."

Overwhelmed with an emotion that she couldn't name, Elizabeth got up and walked over to Barbossa. She leaned over and kissed his rough cheek. Even though he could drive her mad, she admired him and his outlook on life. It wasn't typical.

"Thank you for being a gentleman last night," she said. "Goodnight."

After the door closed behind her, Barbossa smiled and shook his head. The more he learned about Elizabeth, the more he wanted her – and not just for his bed.

* * *

><p><em>Barbossa sat at the table in his cabin. It was late, but he couldn't sleep. The map was in front of him, and he decided to check their course. He'd always been one to double and triple check such things. The sound of the door opening and closing made him spin around. <em>

"_Awfully late for a visit, ain't it?" he asked as Elizabeth slowly walked towards him._

_He noticed that she looked different, but he couldn't put a finger on why. She wore only her thin nightgown as she padded over to him in bare feet, her brown locks loose and mussed where they fell over her shoulders, and her chestnut colored eyes twinkled from the nearby lanterns._

"_It is late, but I didn't think you'd mind," she spoke softly. "Besides, I've been doing some thinking, and you're right."_

_Barbossa looked up at her from where he still sat. "About what?"_

_To his surprise and delight, Elizabeth pulled up her gown some and then sat down in his lap facing him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Right about when you'd said I'd kissed those other captains and not you. Right when you said we needed to remedy that at once."_

_The warmth of Elizabeth's body on his made certain parts of him immediately excited. Before he could reply, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in the softest kiss that he'd ever experienced. As she deepened their kiss, slowly teasing his tongue with hers, he allowed his hands to trail a path from the curve of her hips and waist to her back, holding her tight and pressing her against him. He cared not what had possessed her to come to him – he just hoped she'd do it again._

"_You're the only one who doesn't judge me, Hector," she murmured in between kisses. "You're the only one I can be my true, wicked self around."_

_Barbossa wasn't used to hearing his first name, but it dripped from her lips like honey. "That's because I be just as wicked, my dear. I would never put expectations or restrictions on yeh, anyway. Yeh need to be who yeh are."_

"_Right now, I need you," she breathed. "Loosen your breeches, Hector. I'm ready."_

_Barbossa did not need to be told twice, quickly unfastening his pants to release himself for her. She lifted her hips as he guided his length to her entrance._

"_Slowly," she whispered. "It's been a while."_

_Barbossa liked it rough, but he knew that was a time to be gentle. "Yes, m'lady," he replied, pushing into her ever so carefully. Elizabeth whimpered and moaned against his lips as they kissed, and he wondered if he'd last more than a few seconds as her body welcomed him in. It had been too long since he'd felt such pleasure – too many years without being able to feel physical connections._

"_Yes, Hector," Elizabeth moaned, dropping her head back. "You fit perfectly. A little faster."_

_Barbossa happily complied, though sitting in the chair made their union difficult._

"_I think we need to move to the bed for me to take yeh properly," he told her._

"_Yes, Hector. Carry me to the bed then."_

_Barbossa lifted her up easily and carried her over, carefully placing her down and crawling on top of her. Her locks were splayed out on the pillow like curled pieces of chocolate, and he thought that she'd never looked more beautiful. _

BAM!

Barbossa woke up in a panic and frantically looked around the room. _Damn!_ Little Jack had knocked some books onto the floor and had woken him up. Why did he always have to wake up from good dreams? He was never disturbed during bad ones.

And what a good dream that had been. As Barbossa lay back down, his mind was filled with images of Elizabeth underneath him in bed.

* * *

><p>"Ready to steer the ship?"<p>

"What?"

"Are yeh ready to steer the ship? We be only a couple days from Madagascar. The water is a bit calmer, so this be a good place, if yeh want to."

Elizabeth was surprised at Barbossa's offer; he did not turn the wheel over to just anyone.

"Well – I – yes," she stammered, following him to the helm. "I'd love to."

Barbossa stepped up onto the wooden platform and motioned for her to stand in front of him. Elizabeth stepped up and was immediately overwhelmed at the sight before her. She could see glimpses of the ocean's horizon as the ship rose and swell with its gentle rhythm. Everyone on deck was busy with assigned tasks; the din of their conversations littered with periodic laughs and whistles. The blue sky above her was clear as far as she could see, and she couldn't help but breathe deeply. That was certainly where she belonged; there was no question. She loved being at sea.

"Breathtakin', ain't it?" she heard from immediately behind her, quickly snapping her back to reality.

Elizabeth nodded. "It's beautiful," she agreed as she felt Barbossa reach for her hands and gently guide them to the thick wooden spokes of the wheel. She was suddenly very aware of his presence behind her again, and her stomach fluttered in response. She gripped the spokes tightly, but Barbossa massaged her hands to relax them.

"Not so tight," he instructed, his rough voice unusually soft near her ear. "Let them sort of rest in yer hands…yeah…like that."

Elizabeth swallowed as she tried to concentrate on his words. She could feel the edges of his clothing brushing against hers, and she resisted the urge – again – to lean back against him as his weathered hands remained over hers.

"Be easy," Barbossa continued, slowly turning the wheel to the right and then to the left. "Except for hard turns, yeh want to steer the ship easy over the waves like this. Don't fight her – guide her."

Elizabeth's skin felt like it was on fire where his hands were touching hers. "Another instance of your gentleness," she pointed out as her pulse quickened.

She heard Barbossa chuckle low in his throat before he closed what little distance had been between them and stifled a gasp when his body pressed to hers. He leaned in and allowed his lips to boldly caress her ear and rasped, "When guidin' beautiful vessels through unchartered territory, I always be gentle with them." He kept his hands over hers as he spoke, lightly rubbing her soft skin, making his meaning as clear as glass. They'd been rather playful in conversation the past couple weeks, but he was ready for more. And his dreams were driving him crazy. "For us men, steerin' a ship be like layin' with a lover. We guide them through the rise and fall of their pleasures, ridin' wave upon wave of their release until we've no choice but to surrender ourselves to our passions and to the undertow of ecstasy." She could feel the scratch of his beard against her cheek and closed her eyes. In that moment, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be, everything else be damned. "Can yeh do that, Elizabeth? Can yeh surrender yerself to yer passion?"

Elizabeth didn't know that he was capable of such romantic talk. Her resolve had been slowly disappearing over the past number of days, anyway. "I want to," she whispered before her brain could stop her.

Barbossa squeezed her hands. "I'll be here to guide yeh when yer ready," he whispered, removing his hands and stepping down from the small platform to leave her alone at the helm.

Elizabeth's eyes flew open as she watched Barbossa saunter across the deck in his uneven swagger, quite certain she saw a smirk on his tanned face. Her hands still burned where he'd touched her, and her breath was ragged. Part of her couldn't believe that she'd answered his question so honestly. She inhaled deeply and tried to calm her nerves as she casually glanced around at the crew to see if any were paying any attention to what had just happened, but it didn't work. She felt expectant – like she was waiting for a lit cannon to explode. Hell, for that matter, she felt like _she_ was the lit cannon that was about to explode. She was anxious and jittery, unsure of when the inevitable explosion would take place.

Damn that pirate. And damn her decision for joining him. Damn, damn, damn.

* * *

><p>A couple hours later after Barbossa had returned to the helm, Elizabeth's expectancy had not dwindled. She mentally chastised herself for her recent behavior – she'd been exceedingly playful with him – but she couldn't help it. She'd tried to act proper, but she was just unable to do so. She knew she wanted him, and she had little reason to tell him no. Dammit – she didn't want to tell him no at all. That was the problem.<p>

When she glanced over at him where he stood at that damn helm, Elizabeth caught his eye. Keeping his gaze fixed upon her, Barbossa began to slowly stroke the inner spokes of the wheel, as if caressing them, and when she imagined how it would feel between her thighs, she gasped at her thoughts and looked away from him.

This was bad. So very bad.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Thanks to UbiquitousPitt, BrunetteAuthorette99, Preciossa, lostsocks54, Bloodsired, LinderrCurlise and SeaChange79 for leaving reviews for the last chapter. I am SO thankful for them, and I will thank you every time. It helps to have even just a little feedback when I'm working on future chapters. And there ARE some good ones on the way. *wink wink*<em>**

**_Don't forget my Twitter account - VelvetStormFF. I post updates and other favorite fics of mine, plus I just recently made a photo manip of our two main characters. Go check it out and let me know what you think!_ **


	10. A Quick Message From Me

_**I know, I know..."we were hoping for a chapter!"**_

_**I'm awful. There it is. But anyway...**_

_**Before I post the next chapter, I had to share this - velvetstormff . blogspot dot com / 2014/03/ upcoming-chapter-hints . html (Take out the spaces...change DOT to an actual one ... add the regular HT bit at the beginning...you know the drill.) (Or just go to my profile and click on it since this site likes to be difficult with links.)  
><strong>_

_**I completely revamped my blog site (some of you will remember this site from Irish Eyes), AND I posted a new blog about the next chapter (comments are always welcome on the blog). What could those links possibly mean? Yes, I know I'm evil. You'll have that.**_

_**Make sure to follow the blog; I post random story 'stuff' there. And don't forget, you can follow me on Twitter, too, for more random story 'stuff'. **_

_**'Stuff' is a technical term, you know. *wink***_

_**I promise. Next post WILL be a chapter. :) Oh...and have a great St. Patrick's Day on Monday for those who celebrate! Green beer all around!  
><strong>_


	11. Madagascar Arrival

_**So did anyone check out the hints on my blog about this chapter? Since I didn't receive not one comment either here or on the blog, that leaves me in the dark as to your thoughts. Remember, I can't read minds! (Though sometimes I wish I could.) Feedback is vital!**_

_**And no...this is NOT an April Fool's joke!**_

* * *

><p>Making port in Madagascar was a busy time, as arriving to ports usually were. They weighed anchor, secured the boat and set about supplying the ship first. Some remained behind for maintenance while others went ashore in the longboats.<p>

The water was the brightest and clearest that Elizabeth had ever seen, and cerulean colored waves crashed into a pure white shoreline. The trees, in varying shades of green, reminded her of fresh broccoli florets in a lush garden. Brightly colored parrots, like Cotton's, were perched everywhere while little monkeys with striped tails ran loose.

As Elizabeth walked with the crew towards the noisy market, she was glad that she'd decided to wear – what she called – her king coat and hat, complete with her leather sheath and sword. She was getting some rather lengthy stares from the native men, and while she was not afraid of them, she didn't exactly like it, either. Initially, she'd told the crew not to speak about her being king, but now she wondered if she should amend that.

Barbossa tried not to smirk when he noticed that Elizabeth walked a little closer to him. He couldn't blame her; he'd seen the hungry gazes cast upon her. It was just one reason why he'd argued with her about letting the crew announce her as king upon their arrival. The crew had also been instructed to watch her back – not because she was a woman – but because she was their king. Had she been a man, the crew would still have been instructed to protect her. Elizabeth, however, had refused, saying that she didn't want the attention. Barbossa hoped she wanted his, at least, and he had one last trick up his sleeve that would hopefully be the lit match upon the gunpowder trail that had led them that far.

* * *

><p>By late afternoon, all of the acquired supplies had been taken back to the ship and stored away. Everyone – except those charged with guarding the <em>Imperial<em> – were allowed to spend their evening however they wished. Many quickly found dock walkers of their choice and disappeared to satisfy their carnal appetites while others headed to the local tavern to indulge their physical appetites.

Elizabeth was sitting at a table with some of the crew drinking rum when Barbossa finally showed up. He'd disappeared over an hour ago, but she hadn't thought much about it, initially – she knew he had many different business matters to attend to – but as darkness fell, she'd begun to look for him. After all of their carrying on aboard the ship, she'd expected to see a little more of him.

The smile that had started to form on Elizabeth's face at seeing him quickly disappeared when she saw that a woman had followed him in, and it didn't take her but a few moments to figure out who – or what – she was. Elizabeth watched as the quean perched herself in Barbossa's lap when he sat down at a small table, and she had to take a quick drink of rum to hide her disgust. She could tell by the woman's swishy walk and thin clothing that clung to her curves exactly what sort of woman she was. She wasn't sure what disgusted her more – the strumpet's flirting or the captain's flirting.

Elizabeth was hurt, angry and confused all at once. She didn't understand what he was doing. She thought that he wanted her, so why wasn't he talking to her? She knew it was a bit arrogant of her, but shouldn't he be flirting with _her_ instead of the dock walker? She didn't particularly like watching him give his attention to that woman after all of his effort to pursue her.

_Oh God, now I'm jealous, _she thought. _This just gets better and better. _

Elizabeth took a long swig of rum, hoping to drown that bitter thought in the alcohol, but it didn't work. She tried to listen to the story that Gibbs was currently telling, his grog blossoms shiny in the lamp-lit tavern, but she couldn't stop glancing over at the captain and his strumpet.

Barbossa had said that he was getting tired of waiting, so perhaps he'd chosen that woman to spend the night with. It didn't make sense, though. A dock walker was exactly what he'd said that he didn't want.

And then it hit Elizabeth. That despicable old pirate was _trying_ to make her jealous! Their recent playfulness hadn't provided what he'd wanted soon enough, so he was showing her that he'd move on without her – that's _exactly_ what he was doing. Elizabeth wanted to be mad – and she was, in a way – but she couldn't argue that he hadn't been successful. She _was_ jealous. _She_ wanted to be the one on his lap flirting with him. _Did the past few weeks on the ship mean nothing to him? Do I mean that little to him that his head would turn so easily, so quickly?_

What in the blazes was _wrong_ with her? He was a bloody _pirate_ – of course she meant that little to him.

Elizabeth considered going back to the ship. What would she do in a few hours when all the men were drunk and passed out in the tavern or in some wench's bed? There was nothing for her there, including – apparently – the captain. And that hurt so much more than she thought it would. She bit her lip to try to keep her emotion at bay.

Elizabeth noticed the woman whisper in Barbossa's ear then, and they both laughed. Did he even care where she was? Lately, he'd been catching her eye all over the ship, but he hadn't once looked around for her in the tavern. She felt sick. She felt alone. She felt used.

She watched as Barbossa and his wench stood – _wait, where are they going?_ _Are they leaving?_ Elizabeth's heart fell as she watched them walk out of the tavern, his arm wrapped around her bare shoulders. That meant one thing – he _had_ chosen her. She was taking him to her – whatever – to accept his money and let him have his way with her. Bloody scallywag. His idea of special meant waiting for the next port and nothing more. Their talking and flirting had meant absolutely nothing. That bastard. How dare he string her along like that, knowing full well she was vulnerable with her husband gone!

Anger instantly swelled within Elizabeth like the churning waves of the sea during a maelstrom. She had to leave and _right then. _Maybe she'd get her things from the ship and return to Shipwreck Cove; it's where she belonged, anyway. She felt like a fool.

"Take me back to the ship," Elizabeth announced over the ruckus around her, interrupting whoever had been talking. "Right now." She never used her position to her advantage, but she would, if she had to. And to think that she'd almost given into the captain's charms. She'd been _so_ close. So dangerously close.

Everyone stopped talking and looked at her in confusion.

"I'm serious," Elizabeth stated, looking at each of them with wide eyes. "Now."

The group exchanged glances and shrugs until Ragetti finally stood.

"I'll take yeh back, Mrs. Turner."

Elizabeth was fuming as she rushed out of the tavern with Ragetti struggling to keep up with her. She didn't understand how Barbossa could do that to her. _How could he say all that he had and then slink off with that whore? _He wasn't even trying to be discreet, as if he'd wanted her to see everything all along.

_Pirate_, she reminded herself. _What did you really expect? He was probably lying about not having been with someone, too._

Once she reached one of their boats, Elizabeth furiously worked on untying the knot until a hand grabbed her wrist and held it tight. She tried to shake it off, thinking it was Ragetti, but when she looked up, it was the smirking face of Barbossa that she saw.

"Get away from me," Elizabeth spat in disgust, fervently trying to dislodge her wrist from his grip.

"Ragetti, secure the rope."

"We're returning to the ship," Elizabeth told him through clenched teeth, still tugging at her wrist; Barbossa's grip was like steel. "In fact, I'm getting my belongings, and I'm returning to Shipwreck Cove."

"No, yer not," Barbossa calmly argued. "Ragetti, secure the rope and return to whatever yeh were doin'; that's an order."

Ragetti did as he was told and quickly left, not wanting to be anywhere near the two of them. He didn't know what was going on, nor did he want to.

"Let go of me," Elizabeth hissed, her eyes narrowed in anger. "Now." She didn't know what he was up to, but she didn't care. She'd seen everything that she'd needed to see. She was done.

"Why are yeh returnin' to the ship?"

"Because I don't want to be around a bunch of drunken pirates later, nor am I going to find a wench to bed. So, if you don't mind, I'm returning to the ship so I can get my things. Feel free to return to your little whore. I wouldn't want to disrupt your evening with her; after all, you've been waiting so long for your special poppet."

That did it for Barbossa. He'd had enough. He was tired of competing with her guilt and being teased by her. She needed to make a choice one way or another. He let go of her wrist and harshly grabbed her upper arms, shaking her once. "Look around, Missy! Do yeh see a whore?" he growled, unconcerned with being gentle.

Elizabeth didn't back down, though his grip hurt her arms. "I saw the one on your lap and the one you left with," she seethed with stormy eyes. "Were there others I missed?" She didn't even care how jealous she sounded. She was furious.

Barbossa pushed Elizabeth backwards a couple steps to one of the tall wooden dock poles and then shoved her against it. "Why do yeh care, _Mrs. Turner_?" he asked, purposely using her married name. He'd had it with her lollygagging. He wanted her, damn it, and either he was going to have her or he was going to have someone else and leave her be. She could not expect him to wait around forever while she made up her mind. He'd waited too long as it was.

"I _don't_ care!" she yelled.

"Then why are yeh in such a rush to return to the blasted ship?" he roared, shaking her again.

"_I'm not!"_

"_Yeh are!"_

Bursting at the seams with frustration and frantic indignation, Elizabeth rapidly beat on Barbossa's chest in an attempt to free herself from his grip. She was more angry and hurt than she'd been in a long time, and it was all his fault.

"Let go of me! How dare you treat me like this! Get your filthy hands off of me! I'm going –"

Barbossa silenced her protests by crashing his mouth against hers in matched fury. Elizabeth whimpered and continued to fight him, but Barbossa refused to relent. He forcibly parted her lips and plunged his tongue deep into her mouth, tossing aside any and all propriety. Initially, she'd continued to fight him, but then she began to match his frantic oral thrusts and was unaware that her hands had stopped beating against him and were clutching the lapels of his coat instead. She was overcome by his power and strength, and she was given no choice but to heed his demand. The weeks of mental torment – the fire of confusion that had burned within her – was doused in a matter of seconds. His kiss was everything that she'd imagined it would be, and it was everything that she'd needed it to be.

Barbossa didn't care what happened from there on. He was entitled to one kiss, and he had no problem taking it from her by force. She deserved it for stringing him along all those weeks. He retreated from her harshly, his own virulence obvious even in the dimly lit dock, and he pushed her hands off of him as if she were diseased.

"So go back to the bloody ship then and return to the cove, if that's what yeh truly want!" Barbossa exclaimed, pointing towards the ocean where the _Imperial_ was anchored. "No one be stoppin' yeh!"

Elizabeth watched in dumbfounded silence as he stomped away from her with no further word and no look back; her lips still swollen and wet from his commanding kiss.

A thousand thoughts swirled in her head. Barbossa had looked hurt just then, and she wasn't used to seeing such raw emotion from him. _Did he turn down the wench? Should I return to the ship or the cove? Should I go after him?_ His kiss had been unlike any other that she'd had, and there had been a few. Did she want more? Would she _allow_ more? What would it mean for her and Will?

Suddenly, she heard Jack's words inside her rattled brain: "_You long for freedom. You long to do what you want to do because you want it – to act on selfish impulse_".

Next thing she knew, Elizabeth was walking back towards the tavern at a determined pace. She was done worrying; it was time to act. Jack had been right all along.

_I'm sorry, Will_, she thought. _But I can't be something that I'm not. I do love you, but I won't wait around and deny myself for the rest of my life. I just can't live like that. I certainly don't expect you to, either, and I don't want to end up resenting you._

Elizabeth ignored the thumping of her heart and entered the tavern, searching for Barbossa. She was relieved to see that he was sitting alone at the bar, sipping from a large black jack. When she didn't see a wench near him, she took a deep breath. She'd made her decision, and she wasn't going to wait any longer. Trying to act casual – as if that moment in her life was somehow insignificant – she walked over and sat on the stool next to him. Her hands were shaking, and her mouth was dry, but she wasn't leaving.

Barbossa saw Elizabeth from the corner of his eye. He'd assumed that she'd returned to the ship, because she was stubborn like that, so he was pleasantly surprised when she joined him. He hoped it meant that she'd decided to stay because he was more than ready to be with her. He didn't look at her, though, choosing instead to drink more rum.

Elizabeth was unsure of what to do. She was nervous – she'd just made the second biggest decision in her life – and she shifted uncomfortably where she sat, glancing around and feeling rather conspicuous, as if everyone knew her private thoughts. She knew that was a silly notion, but even though she was bold and outspoken, she was still inexperienced when it came to men.

"I'm – uh – not going back to the ship," she finally said, not looking at him.

Barbossa remained silent as both of them were oblivious to the boisterous commotion going on around them. Elizabeth stared into her lap while he took another long swig of rum.

"I've never been kissed like that," she added. Will's kisses were gentle, but uncertain. James' kiss had been desperate, but empty of emotion. Sao Feng's had been forceful and quick. Jack's had been fiery, but her deceit ruined that one from the beginning. Barbossa's kiss had been confident, commanding and full of passion. It had been perfect.

Barbossa snorted at her statement. "Don't doubt it." He wasn't being facetious. Turner was just a boy, and the other men didn't count for varying reasons. Of course she hadn't been kissed like that before.

Elizabeth bit her lip and breathed deeply. That was it. There would be no going back, not that she wanted to. "I've – um – nowhere to stay tonight," she said softly as she lifted her nervous gaze, silently willing him not to make her say anymore.

Barbossa set his mug down and looked at her then – studied her was more like it. Elizabeth's big brown eyes were wide in anticipation, but he saw dormant passion just waiting to be ignited in them, as well. She still had a few reservations, but he knew that her decision had been made or she never would have come back. The anger that had been burning inside him melted away instantly by the thought of being with her. Her statement was enough. She wasn't going back. She was serious.

"You could stay with me tonight," Barbossa offered, lowering his voice and giving her a smoldering look so that there would be no mistake of his intention; he'd waited longer than any sane man would for such pleasures. She was _his_, if only for the night. They would share more than a bed or he would take her back to the ship himself.

Elizabeth swallowed and nodded, relieved that he would not embarrass her in the tavern. "All right. What do I –"

"Meet me across the road in a couple minutes," Barbossa stated, standing up and quickly leaving the bar to secure a room for them.

Elizabeth glanced around nervously, but no one was paying any attention to them. That was it then. She would be staying the night with the captain. She wondered what would happen once they returned to the ship. Would their unions continue? Her heart was pounding, but she wasn't about to change her mind. She wanted to be with him, wrong or not, and she would deal with tomorrow tomorrow.

Elizabeth stood and slowly walked out of the tavern onto the dimly lit road. Once outside, she looked up and down the storefronts, quickly locating Barbossa. He was standing just outside the entrance of an inn dangling a key.

Elizabeth instantly smiled and crossed the street to join him, her nervousness quickly morphing into excitement. They were finally going to be together after months of dancing around each other. She was ready.

"I have but one request," Barbossa said as she approached him, his tone firm. "That it be just the two of us tonight in our apartment." It was all he would say about Turner, but it was important. He'd not compete with his memory, and she couldn't blame him for wanting her to put her husband aside for a time.

"Aye, Captain," Elizabeth replied with a nod. "Just the two of us it will be." She didn't want to think about Will any more than he did.

Barbossa gazed at Elizabeth for a few moments, sizing up the truth in her words and enjoying the moment of her acquiesce, before proffering his arm and saying, "Shall we, m'lady?" She was not a dock walker; she was a lady, and he would happily treat her as such. When he'd decided to wait for a situation other than a paid woman, he'd never thought that it would be Elizabeth. He hoped he wasn't dreaming again.

Elizabeth took his arm with a smile and followed Barbossa inside the inn, up creaky wooden stairs and down a short hallway. She watched him open the door with the key and then, after a deep breath, followed him in.

The room was certainly not fancy, but it was clean and tidy. The bed was against the far wall with two pillows and covered in a white cotton blanket. A small nightstand with a bowl, pitcher and a kerosene lamp was beside of the bed with one wooden chair in the other corner. A threadbare rug covered the wooden floor.

"There be a wash room downstairs," Barbossa told her. "Why don't yeh go first and enjoy a hot bath?" Being at sea didn't warrant such luxuries, so he thought that she might enjoy it before their activity began. He was anxious, but he'd waited that long – another few minutes wouldn't matter. He wanted her to be relaxed and comfortable.

"Why don't you join me?" If Elizabeth was going to be with him, then the sooner they started the better. She wanted to be close to Barbossa, much more than she'd originally thought, and she saw no reason why they couldn't share the bath.

Barbossa smirked as he gazed at the young woman who'd plagued his dreams for weeks. He should have expected her counter offer. "If yeh wish, m'lady," he replied with a slight head bow. "I'd be honored to join yeh."

* * *

><p><strong><em>First, I need to acknowledge some guest reviews that I keep forgetting about:<em>**

**_To PirateZ203 – thanks for the condolences. Can't believe it was a year on 2/21. I couldn't say thanks for your review via an account, so I wanted to post it here. Hope you're still reading!_**

**_Black Heart – Thanks so much for your earlier review & the one you left for the last chapter. I couldn't reply to your account, either, but I wanted to say thanks for thinking of me. You'll love this next chapter (I hope)!_**

**_And Conni left a review on chapter 4 that I keep forgetting to acknowledge – Thank you very much for the review; forgive me for being late in responding. I left it in email because I didn't want to forget it, but then it got bogged down with other emails. I really appreciate your well-wishes for me and Mom…I'm sure you've read already that she passed last February. I sure tried hard to help her, though. Hopefully you're still enjoying this story. There are many more chapters to come._**

**_Thanks to these wonderful folks for their reviews for my last chapter - BrunetteAuthorette99, Aelly, Bloodsired and Kate. _**

**_Quean – an impudent or ill-behaved girl or woman._**

**_Apartment – not a rental unit like we think of now, but a hotel room back then._**

**_Don't forget - my Twitter is VelvetStormFF and my story blog is here - : / / velvetstormff . blogspot . c o m (just add the regular HT bit at the front of the link.)  
><em>**

**_I hope to hear from all of you!_**


	12. The Wait Is Over

Barbossa and Elizabeth had reached the final crossroad of their tryst; only a tub of steaming water and two robes stood between them. The room was relatively quiet except for random activity outside the small window, and there were a couple sconces with beeswax candles in them providing soft light. They gazed at each other for a few moments after the innkeeper poured in the last bucket of warm water. A thousand questions danced in their eyes, and neither could believe they were actually standing there together.

Barbossa was nervous, but he would never admit it. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd been with a woman and experienced it properly – that curse had lasted a long, long time. He'd fantasized about being with Elizabeth a hundred times over the past three years, but never did he think that it would actually happen. With a deep breath, he began to undress. He didn't want to waste any time with her.

Elizabeth watched Barbossa out of the corner of her eyes as she began to remove her clothing. There was something quite surreal about the moment – she almost felt like she was dreaming – but she had no second thoughts. She slipped her coat and boots off and then placed her hat on the pile. Casting a quick glance at him again, she saw that he'd already taken off his hat, coat, boots and holsters. She placed her sword down next and worked on her breeches, wiggling out of them before noticing that he was staring at her.

Barbossa still wore his bandana and breeches, but nothing else. Elizabeth's curious gaze travelled across his body. She immediately noticed the numerous scars on his chest, especially the gun shot wound from Jack, but she tried to put that memory out of her head. He seemed smaller, somehow, but she knew that was only because his hat and layers of clothing were gone. Barbossa, the captain, had been replaced by Barbossa, the man. When she noticed that he was staring at her the same way that she was staring at him, she smiled. She felt no guilt – no regret – just desire. It was a relief because she'd been worried about how she'd feel if she ever actually made a decision to be with him.

Barbossa gazed upon Elizabeth, allowing himself the indulgence of etching the moment into his mind; the night that she gave herself to him. Her hair hung loose, and her bare legs extended out from the only article of clothing that she hadn't removed yet; her white shirt. She was breathtaking, and he had the brief wish that he'd been the first man to be with her, but he knew that that was his ego talking. He reminded himself that the water in the tub was cooling, so he reached to untie his breeches – his last piece of clothing – and then slid them down and off before carefully stepping into the tub.

Elizabeth swallowed. Like any other woman's would be, her eyes were immediately drawn to his manhood. She'd assumed that all men were different, of course, but he was bigger than Will, and Will had hurt as it was. She took another deep breath and told herself that she would be fine. She'd gotten that far, after all. _Just stop thinking and get in,_ she told herself. She'd done quite enough thinking already.

Barbossa watched from where he sat reclined in the tub as Elizabeth pulled her white shirt over her head and let it drop to the floor. Her breasts were small, but her nipples looked like hard pebbles, and his mouth watered at the thought of rolling his tongue around them; he could practically taste her already. Her body was slender with only the slightest curve of hip, but the nest of curls between her thighs made his length twitch under the water. Her eyes met his unabashedly as she took a couple steps towards him. She'd never been more beautiful. Gone was the snobby, porcelain doll in frilly clothes he'd first met years ago. Before him stood a woman who had been to hell and back – literally and figuratively – and had the scars to prove it and yet she was more enticing than she'd ever been. They'd been adversaries, they'd been allies, they'd laughed and schemed and argued – they'd come a long way in such a short time – and tonight, it all came full circle. Tonight, they would be lovers.

"Room for me in there?" she quipped to hide her nervousness.

Barbossa extended his hand, his eyes roaming over her golden skin as he helped her in. Elizabeth sat down in front of him and was immediately wrapped in his arms as she rested back against him, extending her legs out. The scented oils that the innkeeper had poured in mixed with the steam from the heated water, and it calmed her as she inhaled deeply. She sighed and closed her eyes.

"This is nice," Elizabeth commented, and she meant it. It felt good – comfortable even – to be with him like this. Finally.

"Couldn't agree more," was his reply. Barbossa cleared his throat before continuing. He needed to address the dock walker from earlier – he felt he owed her that given their current situation. "I – uh – yeh know that nothin' happened with that wench in the tavern."

Elizabeth smiled as she ran her fingertips along his forearm that was draped across her waist under water. "You don't answer to me," she told him. "You're free to do what you want with who you want." She laughed quietly. "Though I wouldn't have talked to you for days. She was _awful_. You did that on purpose, didn't you – to get me jealous?"

Barbossa chuckled softly behind her, imagining the fury that had blazed in her eyes when he'd confronted her on the dock. "Yeh be beautiful when yer jealous," he said, unfolding his arms and sliding his hands down her wet thighs as far as his hands could reach. Her skin was ridiculously soft, and he was afraid his rough hands might hurt her, but he had to touch her – had to run his hands along her body, the body that had tortured him in dreams.

"Thank you." Elizabeth closed her eyes again as his hands continued sliding up and down her legs. His touch was confident, unlike Will's. Even though she couldn't help but compare, she tried to push any thought of her husband from her mind. Barbossa was worldly, and he'd known many women; of course he would have more confidence. When he trailed his fingertips up the sensitive insides of her thighs, close to her most private area, she moaned and squeezed her legs together instinctively, sloshing the water a bit when she did.

"Yeh like that?" Barbossa's raspy voice was hot against her ear. "Lift yer knees up and put yer feet on the tub bottom."

Elizabeth did as he requested, and she was rewarded with his hands sweeping up and down her inner thighs again. When his thumbs barely brushed against her sex, it made her moan and writhe against him as she squeezed the sides of the tub where her arms rested.

"Oh God," Elizabeth breathed, biting her lip. "Do more of that." It had been too long, and touching herself just wasn't the same as being touched.

Barbossa smirked. "Yes, my king." His fingers eagerly floated along her thighs until they reached the velvety soft tissue between them. He spread her labia with two fingers of one hand while gently flicking the fleshy nub back and forth with one finger of the other. He could have drawn it out much longer, but he knew their time in the washroom was limited. Elizabeth immediately stiffened as she dropped her head back to his shoulder.

"_Yes_. Oh – that's – " Moans commandeered her words. She thought she might have been muttering incoherently, but she wasn't really sure. Her only reality was the delicious sensations building between her legs at the moment, courtesy of Barbossa's skilled fingers. Her release was going to happen very quickly, and she squirmed uncontrollably in his embrace.

Barbossa alternated between slow flicks and fast ones until Elizabeth's movements stilled and she began to murmur 'yes' over and over. Spreading her with his fingers just a bit more, he continued his attentions until she cried out and toppled over the edge. He nearly came just from listening to her moans and whimpers – bringing a woman to completion with his hands was one of his favorite things to do and something that he'd been fairly adept at. He hadn't lost his touch, apparently. He grinned.

Elizabeth jerked and spasmed in Barbossa's arms, and she was quite sure that she saw stars explode behind her eyelids. The internal tremors had been hard and intense, but as they gradually slowed, her muscles began to relax. She was breathing heavy when his fingers left her, but when she felt his erection press against her lower back, she wanted him inside of her immediately. She wanted him right then.

Feeling quite bold, she carefully turned around and faced him, resting on her knees on either side of his thighs in the water.

"You're despicable," Elizabeth said with a grin. "That felt wonderful. Your turn." She placed her hands on the side of the tub with the intent of sliding down over him.

"Not yet," Barbossa said, gripping her hips to stop her. "We should go upstairs first."

"Why? Just for a moment. We'll be careful, we won't spill –"

"It not be the water," Barbossa remarked, reluctantly meeting her doe-like, inquisitive gaze, knowing the time had come to tell her. "It be me."

Elizabeth frowned, wondering if he had changed his mind about being with her. "I don't understand. I thought you wanted - "

"I do, but we need to return to the room so that I can dry off and put on a condom first."

"But I just want to make you feel good for a couple minutes like you did for me. Why do you have to –"

"Because I do, all right?" he snapped, looking away from her.

Elizabeth was confused. "Have I done something wrong?" she asked, sitting down in the water, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed.

Barbossa sighed. If they were going to be together – even just the one time – she deserved to know; he would not put her in danger. "Remember those pills that yeh asked about a couple times?" Elizabeth nodded. "They be mercury. I have the French disease, and they treat it."

Elizabeth thought for a moment. She remembered hearing of it from eavesdropping on the maids. "The French disease? Is that the same as the Great Pox?"

Barbossa slowly nodded, hoping to whatever heaven that might exist that it wouldn't change her mind – he'd never told anyone. Dock walkers didn't care about such things, but Elizabeth was different – he wouldn't hide it from her. He knew of her secrets; it was only fair she knew his. He'd already shared more with her than anyone on his crew, anyway.

Elizabeth blinked a few times, trying to recall the little she'd heard about the disease. "It's from intercourse, isn't it? With someone who was already infected?"

Barbossa nodded again, not wanting to say more than was necessary.

"Do you know who –"

He shook his head. "There be no way of knowin' that. It was before the curse and I – well, let's just say that I'd enjoyed a few women at a few ports." He remembered being in rare form there for a year or so; he wasn't surprised to get it.

"Will I get it if we –"

"Nay, not if I keep meself covered with a condom."

Elizabeth didn't understand the specifics of the disease, but as long as she couldn't get it, then it wouldn't stop her from being with him. "Okay, let's finish and go upstairs then."

Barbossa was more than relieved.

* * *

><p>After washing their hair, Barbossa and Elizabeth donned the robes, gathered their clothes and returned to their room. Barbossa locked the door and smirked at Elizabeth who stood by the bed. She was his, at least for one night. Tomorrow be damned. He fetched a condom from his coat pocket, opened his robe and hastily slid the thin membrane of material over himself while Elizabeth watched curiously.<p>

Barbossa looked different to Elizabeth. She supposed being naked with only a robe on contributed to that, but she was thankful for it, as well. She didn't particularly need him looking like 'the captain'; he just needed to look like Hector. She smiled as he walked up to her.

Part of him wanted to take his time with Elizabeth and savor every touch, kiss and moan that was uniquely her, while another part of him wanted to ravish her immediately. Barbossa decided on something in the middle as he began to slowly untie her robe.

"Don't think yeh be needin' this anymore," he said, his eyes locked on hers as he slipped the soft material up and over her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and pool around her bare feet.

"Then I don't suppose you need yours, either," Elizabeth replied playfully, removing his and letting it fall to the floor like hers.

Barbossa watched as Elizabeth turned the bed down and then climbed in. He wasted no time in joining her and gathering her in his arms. The feel of her soft skin against his and the taste of her kiss was nearly his undoing. In a way, he felt like he was a young, virginal boy again, getting so worked up and excited like he was, but he supposed after being deprived of human touch for so many years, he more than deserved to feel a little giddy.

Elizabeth's world beyond the apartment door had ceased to exist. Being with Barbossa felt so much like her dreams – better even. She happily succumbed to him physically, and in a way, emotionally. She allowed him free reign – she let him control everything – and part of the reason why was because she knew that that was his first time in a long time since he could feel; she hadn't forgotten that. She was honored to be with him and honored to be that first for him; she knew what the waiting was like.

When Barbossa's mouth descended to her neck to nip and suck around her collarbone, Elizabeth whispered, "Is it everything you remember?"

He chuckled. "It is, and then some." It had been many, many moons since he'd had a woman in his bed that wasn't there for the coins. He figured Catherine had been the last one, as best he could remember. Dock walkers never lacked enthusiasm, but they did lack sincerity. Barbossa was certain that the moans and whimpers coming from Elizabeth as he kneaded her breasts and gently pinched her nipples were real and not there because of money. And that's what he wanted – he wanted her sincerity – he wanted everything to be as genuine as it could be, given their circumstances. When Elizabeth shifted her legs on the back of his, he felt her hand close around him to guide him in, and while he was anxious about pillaging her prized treasure, he knew it had been a long time for her, as well, and he had to force himself to proceed slowly.

Barbossa covered her mouth with his once more in a slow but deliberate kiss that drove away any rational thought as he began to push inside her. When she stiffened in discomfort, he dropped his mouth to her neck again, kissing and biting the sensitive flesh until he heard her moan. Trying again, it was only moments before Elizabeth was pushing his hips away.

"It hurts," she breathed, trying not to get upset. She didn't remember it feeling quite like that her first time, and she was afraid that they wouldn't be able to do anything. What a disappointment that would be if she couldn't. The thought was more than disheartening.

"A little pain be normal," Barbossa said quietly, reassuring her. "Yeh haven't done this in a while. It'll get better, I promise."

In a move that Elizabeth wasn't expecting, Barbossa pulled a handful of her hair and bit down harder on her neck, setting every nerve ending of her body on fire. When she cried out in both shock and pleasure, he pushed again, and that time, he was able to slide all the way in. She instinctively clawed at his back at the sudden entrance, but as he began to move just a little, she realized that it did feel better, and she was relieved.

Barbossa thought of every crewman on the ship to keep from releasing himself too soon. Their union felt so good – too good – and he growled as he thrust faster. She fit tight around him, so much tighter than he could ever remember a woman being, and he was torn between drawing it out as long as he could to enjoy it or hurrying and enjoying the release. He'd taken matters into his own hands many times since returning to the land of the living, but none of those times seem to make a difference. He was overwhelmed with his longing for her – the last time that he'd felt such an undertow was with Catherine.

"Elizabeth, yeh be feelin' mighty good. I'm tryin' to hold out, but – "

"Don't try. Just do what feels good. We have all night."

Barbossa decided to do what she'd said, and he gave into his desire that had been forced to lie dormant for so many years. It had finally awakened, and it was starving. He was more than happy to feed it. He gripped her tighter and allowed his lust full freedoms, the symphony of their groans and the squeaky bed filling the room. Faster and faster he thrust, submerging himself in her – her scent, her taste, her touch – before the coil that had been wound up tighter and tighter within his loins finally snapped, releasing himself with a garbled and desperate growl.

Elizabeth was certain she'd feel remnants of their activity tomorrow, but she cared not. She was happy – happier than she'd been in months – and she smiled as she listened to Barbossa's heavy gasps and moans as they quieted. She loved hearing him. He sounded so manly; so primal. She wanted to hear him again. He lifted his head from where it had been buried in the crook of her neck, and when their eyes met, they both smiled. It was a moment that she would never forget. His usual scowl – that he had to display to the crew – was replaced by a genuine, relaxed smile; it was even in his eyes. She felt a tug at her heart that she wasn't expecting, but she pushed it away; then was not the time for such things.

Barbossa's heart was pounding as he tried to catch his breath. He knew his age took a toll, but he felt so wonderful, he could have died right then, and it would have been all right. Died again, anyway. Gazing into the chestnut colored orbs that were twinkling in physical bliss, he thought that she must be feeling pretty good, too. He'd make it last longer next time; he knew he could do things that the whelp couldn't. Being young didn't always have the advantage.

Elizabeth winced when Barbossa slipped from her. She watched in a sort of haze as he stood up, disposed of the condom and then lay beside her again. Given their relationship, she rolled over towards him, but she didn't touch him. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to, actually.

Elizabeth reached for the sheet and blanket, as her skin was still damp with sweat and felt chilly in the night air. "Are there other positions besides that one?" she asked curiously.

Barbossa chuckled as he pulled the covers up to his waist. "Many."

Elizabeth was immediately interested. "Will you show me?"

With a glance over at her, Barbossa answered, "If yeh want." There were many things that he could show her. He hoped there would be opportunity for such when they returned to the ship.

Elizabeth lay still for a couple minutes, just enjoying the moment. She felt alive – she'd forgotten just how much she enjoyed being with someone – and she was completely relaxed. All of the stress of trying to decide to be with him was gone. She was glad that she hadn't gone back to the ship.

"Was it worth the wait?" she asked. He'd waited so long; she hoped he wasn't disappointed with his choice; after all, she had such little experience compared to him.

Barbossa smiled sleepily as he rolled over and draped his arm over her waist. "I'd wait all over again if I had to," he murmured. "Now, turn over and get some sleep because I be wakin' yeh up in a little while."

Elizabeth did what he said and relaxed under his embrace. It was then that she realized it had been some time since she last thought of Will, and as she drifted off to sleep beside of Barbossa, she also realized that she was all right with it.

* * *

><p>True to his word, Barbossa had taken her two more times during the night, and both had felt as wonderful as the first. He had the stamina of a younger man, and Elizabeth had been pleasantly surprised. She'd experienced physical sensations with him that she never had with Will, and she loved that Barbossa didn't ask her permission for everything – he just did whatever he wanted. Will had constantly asked about every little touch, and he'd been overly concerned whether she'd been in pain or not. Elizabeth had been appreciative, but it did take away from the moment somewhat. Barbossa did everything perfectly – at least it was to her. His kisses, his touches, the way they fit together – they should have done it weeks ago. He didn't have much to say, but he'd said enough with his actions, and he hadn't been shy about it. It had been all that Elizabeth had hoped it would be.<p>

* * *

><p>Barbossa woke soon after dawn the next morning. He rose, used the chamber pot quickly and dressed. He gazed at Elizabeth as she slept – she had definitely been worth the wait. She was beautiful, she was enthusiastic and they'd had a very good time together – the best that he could remember in many years. Their night together was better than he'd anticipated, and he hoped that it would not be the last.<p>

Elizabeth woke a couple minutes later and sat up with a stretch and a yawn, quickly realizing that she was sore all over. She watched as he finished dressing, putting his coat and hat on and fastening his last holster. He looked like 'the captain' again, and though she smiled at him, she was a little sad, too. She wished she could go back to last night and experience it all over again.

"Now what?" she asked, wrapping the sheet around her as she suddenly felt rather self-conscious.

"Now we go back to the ship," Barbossa answered, adjusting his hat.

"I know that, I meant…"

Barbossa studied the young woman in the bed that he'd taken three times the night before. He wished to again, but the rest of his condoms were back on the ship, and he would not take the chance of infecting her. He walked over to the bed, looming tall above her.

"Yer cabin be next to mine," he reminded her with a wink. He reached for her hand and kissed the top of it. "But let's keep the extracurricular activities to ourselves, aye?"

Elizabeth nodded and bit her lip. Not that she'd planned on kissing him in front of the crew, but she wasn't a dirty secret, either. She wasn't sure how she felt about his comment, but she tried not to think on it too much.

Barbossa smiled and tipped his hat. "All right then. I'll send someone to escort yeh to the ship." Then he left.

And then, overcome with an emotion that she couldn't name or explain, Elizabeth buried her face in his pillow and sobbed like she never had before.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Many thanks to Black Heart, one no-name guest, PirateZ203, lostsocks54, Preciossa, BrunetteAuthorette99, Bloodsired, lea-smiles-a-lot and Little Bored Devil for taking the time to leavesend me reviews. I appreciate every single one, and I will always reply (if you have an acct). _**

**_I posted a few 'inspirational' pictures on my blog (link in my profile). It's what I imagined Madagascar looking like while our couple was there._**

**_So - what's going to happen once they return to the ship? _**

**_For something a little different, I've added a poll question to my profile page. As most of you know, I have a website where I sell handmade goodies. I don't currently have any POTC items, so why don't YOU tell me what you'd like to see? Not sure? Check out my site psychedelic snowflake . com to see what I've already made. It'll be open until I post the next chapter. _**

**_Hope to hear from you!_**


	13. Regrets and Consequences

As Barbossa headed towards the dock, he walked a little taller. Admittedly, he felt somewhat smug, having just left the bed that he'd shared with Elizabeth. But what virile man wouldn't? She was young, she was beautiful and he'd taken her three times. And he finally had a night of pleasure that he didn't pay for – it had been genuine. He'd been starting to think that he'd never have another encounter that didn't involve the exchange of coins, and while that was acceptable to a degree, once in a while, a man wanted to be wanted for him and not for his money.

Elizabeth had certainly made him feel wanted. The looks of pleasure that had danced across her face multiple times, her quiet whispers and sighs in response to his touches, her nails clawing at his back – it was a night that he knew he'd never forget. Barbossa smirked. It would probably become part of his late night fantasies, in fact.

"G'mornin', Mr. Gibbs," he greeted as he approached. "Beautiful day for piratin', ain't it?"

Still sporting a headache from the night before, Gibbs did not return Barbossa's unusual smile. "Aye, Cap'n. You be in a right agreeable mood this mornin'."

Barbossa winked. "Yes, Mr. Gibbs, I am," he agreed, but he didn't expound. "How many crewmen are we waitin' on?"

"Eight including Elizabeth, Cap'n."

"We'll wait a bit longer before leaving then."

* * *

><p>After Elizabeth composed herself, she cleaned up, dressed and headed downstairs. Ragetti was waiting for her.<p>

"G'mornin', Mrs. Turner," he greeted with an awkward wave of his hand and a nod. "Cap'n says I'm to escort ya to the dock."

"Would you mind calling me by my first name?" Elizabeth asked, forcing a smile. She'd just climbed out of a bed that she'd shared with a man that was not her husband – the last thing she wanted was to be called by her married name.

"If that's what ya want…Elizabeth," Ragetti answered hesitantly as they left the inn.

"It is. Thank you."

Elizabeth listened half-heartedly as Ragetti tried to make small talk while they headed towards the dock, but she couldn't really concentrate on anything except the sore muscles between her legs; they were a stark reminder of what she'd done the night before. She walked slower than usual, wishing her escort wasn't in such a hurry. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice her discomfort.

When they reached the dock, Elizabeth kept her head down and walked straight onto the next longboat heading for the ship. The captain stood on the side with Gibbs making sure all of his crew was accounted for, but she didn't look at him when she passed – she couldn't. She sat down in the boat, her back facing him, and she spoke to no one. She felt like everyone knew what had happened last night – as if it was written on her face. It was unnerving, and her eyes still burned from her earlier tears. She'd never been so conspicuous. She wished she could just crawl into a hole and hide.

* * *

><p>During the quiet boat ride back (most of the crewmen around her were suffering from too much drink to engage in much conversation, thankfully), Elizabeth couldn't stop images from the night before from replaying over in her mind – Barbossa's naked body marked with numerous battle scars atop hers, the searing look in his eyes while they were joined and the rare expression of relaxed contentment on his face that followed – they all consumed her thoughts. In her mind, she had sex with Barbossa all the way back to the ship, and it made her squirm uncomfortably where she sat. His guttural growls and moans echoed in her ears, and it sounded so real to her, she thought for sure that the crewmen near her could hear them, too.<p>

The way he'd made her feel, though – it had been so much more intense than with Will. She told herself that that was normal because Barbossa was older and had more experience, but a part of her wished it hadn't been that way with him; she wanted her husband to be the only one to make her feel such things. She'd also assumed that Barbossa would be rough with her, and she'd been a little leery of that, but he'd been extremely gentle with her. In fact, he seemed to know when to be gentle and when to be rougher without her having to tell him. Her body still tingled from his touch – even sitting in that damned boat – and she desperately wished it would stop. She could still feel his hands upon her skin, touching her most intimate areas, and she could feel his mouth on hers, as well, and it made heat rise to her cheeks that she hoped no one noticed. She was inundated with Barbossa, and it was more than she was prepared to handle.

Everything would be different once they returned to the ship – it would have to be. She could no longer hide behind her marriage. The wall of _some_ semblance of propriety that had stood between them had been destroyed in one night. There were no more secrets between them – they'd gazed upon each other's nakedness, they'd listened to each other's moans and sighs and they knew each other's taste. It created an awkward intimacy that Elizabeth hadn't expected. How could she have expected it? As soon as she'd lain with her husband, he'd left. There was no way she could have known how she'd feel afterwards.

She'd wanted to be with Barbossa, though. She'd made her choice freely. She could have returned to the ship instead of going back to the tavern – she could have returned to the cove even – but that's not what she'd wanted. She'd had weeks of dreaming about him and having conversations with him that – after he'd kissed her in fury – had all converged in her gut and had made her decision for her. It had all felt so right last night.

However, now that the fury had dissipated and the sunshine of reality burned bright upon her, Elizabeth thought that she'd made a horrible mistake.

* * *

><p>When Barbossa saw Ragetti escorting Elizabeth to the dock, he'd fought the huge grin that wanted to spread across his face, allowing only a small smirk instead, but it hadn't appeared for long. Not that he'd anticipated her to run up and embrace him, but he assumed that she'd at least look over at him – maybe offer him a shy, knowing glance. But as he watched her walk towards the longboats, Elizabeth did not look at him. She didn't look at anyone.<p>

Barbossa's eyebrows furrowed together. Elizabeth kept her head down, and her arms were folded across her chest as she gingerly headed for the boats. He could tell that she was sore, though she tried to hide it, but he didn't think that that was what was bothering her.

His good mood suddenly wasn't.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later as he rode back to the ship in the last boat, Barbossa was irritated – beyond irritated, really. He knew why Elizabeth had acted the way she did, and he didn't like it one bit.<p>

She regretted spending the night with him. And that made him furious.

Barbossa crossed his arms and shifted where he sat. Why did her regret of their time together bother him? He'd gotten what he'd wanted, after all. Why should he care what she thought?

He shook his head. He did care, dammit. As much as he didn't want to, he did care about her, and he didn't want her to have regret for what happened. That hadn't been his intent when he'd kissed her on the dock. It hadn't been his intent when he'd spoke with the innkeeper earlier in the day in the hopes he'd return with her later, either.

As Barbossa continued to see-saw back and forth between guilt and anger, he finally settled on the latter. How dare she try to make him feel guilty because of her choice? He'd not coerced her in any way – not even with drink – yet she was acting as if he had, in a way, as if she had been a victim of circumstance. She was the one that had come back to the tavern. She was the one that had joined him at the inn. She was the one that had whispered in his ear that she'd wanted more numerous times throughout the night.

Barbossa glowered at the boat ahead that she was riding in. Ornery strumpet.

He remembered then why it was bad luck to bring a woman aboard – even if said woman was the blasted king. They were confusing and contradictory creatures that should remain ashore. Sparrow was right – they did vex all men.

Well, he'd not give her reason for offense anymore. If she wanted to wait around ten years at a time for ten minutes with the fumbling whelp, then he'd gladly leave her to it. There would be plenty of dock walkers at the next port who would happily accept his coins in their pockets and him in their beds without making him feel guilty about either the next day. He would not pay for sincerity with guilt.

Blasted woman king. He should have left her in Ap Lei where she belonged.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth didn't see much of Barbossa over the next twenty-four hours, and for that, she was grateful. She needed time to think – time to accept what she'd done – so she could figure out what to do next.<p>

She'd told herself that their evening in Madagascar had been a one time occurrence; a moment of weakness. She'd been lonely and missing Will, and Barbossa had been – well, he'd just been the opportunistic pirate that he was. Of course he wasn't going to tell her no or remind her that she was married. Their complicated and tightly woven past had converged upon them on the ship, and then their misplaced desire took the helm, causing them to engage in activity that they otherwise wouldn't have engaged in. Right. That's exactly what happened.

Elizabeth wouldn't tell Will. It had been a mistake, and it wouldn't happen again. There was no need to hurt him over nothing. As soon as her journey was over, she'd return to Ap Lei to wait for the husband that she loved. Yes. That's exactly what she'd do.

* * *

><p>Barbossa stomped around the ship, barking orders to the crewmen in a more gruff way than usual. Elizabeth was purposely avoiding him, and he was so mad, he couldn't see straight. He'd considered going back to Madagascar and putting her off there so that she could return to Ap Lei. He wasn't sure how long he'd allow her to continue hiding from him on his own ship.<p>

Suddenly feeling like someone was staring at him, Barbossa turned around and caught Elizabeth's gaze from across the deck. She looked away the second their eyes met, but it was enough time for him to cast a menacing glare her way.

Ornery strumpet king.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth was reading when a knock on the door startled her. Her heart beat a little quicker as she walked over, hoping that it wasn't the captain. She wasn't ready for that.<p>

When she opened it, she breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Good evening, Mr. Gibbs," she greeted. "Everything all right?"

"As much as it can be," Gibbs answered, looking rather uncomfortable as he nervously fumbled with his hat that he held in his hands. "Um…I've been sent to tell you that you've got crow's nest duty tonight."

Elizabeth frowned. "Crow's nest duty? Since when am I on that?"

Gibbs grimaced and shrugged. "I just do what I'm told, Elizabeth."

"And who told you this?"

Gibbs glanced towards the cabin next to hers. "The cap'n did."

"I see. Well, thank you for letting me know. I'll be out in just a minute."

Gibbs quickly left, and Elizabeth closed the door behind him quietly. The crow's nest? At night? She'd never done that before, but when she remembered seeing him earlier in the day, she knew he was doing it out of spite. The look that he'd given her had been rather hateful – he knew that she regretted what had happened, and he wasn't happy about it, so he was trying to get even by giving her crow's nest duty.

Well, Barbossa would get over it, eventually, she reasoned. She wasn't thrilled about the crow's nest, but one night wouldn't hurt her. She certainly wasn't going to give that old scallywag the satisfaction of getting mad about it because that's probably what he was hoping for.

Bloody pirate.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth didn't return to her cabin until almost three in the morning. She'd thought that she'd be able to sleep a bit longer the next morning, but she thought wrong. At six sharp, Pintel banged on the door reminding her that she was to help with breakfast.<p>

Continuing her avoidance of Barbossa, Elizabeth counted down during the day, hardly able to wait to get back to her bed to sleep. She even skipped dinner.

* * *

><p>"Again?"<p>

Gibbs didn't know what was going on, nor did he want to. They'd only been back to sea for four days, but everyone had noticed the captain's sour mood and Elizabeth's new responsibilities. The crew whispered about it when neither was around. Gibbs had also noticed how Barbossa's countenance had changed after seeing her behavior when leaving Madagascar, and he had a suspicion that he dared not voice.

"Aye. The cap'n said you're to be on the crow's nest again tonight."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. It was getting harder to not be mad. "Fine," she said through clenched teeth. "I'll be right out."

That bastard. Sending in Gibbs to wake her up. Then she got an idea and grinned. If he thought that he wanted her in the nest, perhaps she needed to show him that that really wasn't the best place for her.

* * *

><p>About four hours later, with the full moon high above the quiet ship, Elizabeth started ringing the bell to alert the night crew that she saw something in the distance.<p>

"Whatcha' see up there?" Bellamy, a young lad they'd picked up in Madagascar, called up as he ran closer towards the mast.

"I'm not sure exactly," she replied. "Go get the captain, though. We can't take any chances in this stretch of water."

Bellamy hesitated. This was only his second pirate ship, and the last thing he wanted to do was make his new captain angry at him. "Are ya sure? I've been told that he gets mighty angry when woken up in the middle of the night."

"I'm positive," Elizabeth repeated. "I can't tell if what I'm seeing is possibly a war ship or just a merchant vessel."

"Well – all right then. I'll go get him."

Elizabeth smirked.

A couple minutes later, a very irate Barbossa stomped out on deck with his telescope.

"Where be this blasted ship, _Mrs. Turner_?" he barked.

"Off starboard, Captain," Elizabeth called down, ignoring his emphasized use of her married name.

Barbossa searched his lens for some time, but he couldn't see anything. What the blazes was she on about? He couldn't see –

And then it hit him. That _wench_. She hadn't seen anything. She did it just to make the crewman wake him. Barbossa grinded his teeth together and pursed his lips. He was furious. Even more than he had been the past few days. He entertained the thought of dropping her in the ocean right then.

"Bellamy, there be nothin' out there but an overactive imagination," he growled. "Do _not_ wake me again."

As he stomped back to his cabin, the new crewman looked up at Elizabeth in confusion.

"Hmm. Must have been the moonlight on the water playing tricks on my eyes," Elizabeth offered, trying not to laugh.

Teach him for putting her up there in the first place.

* * *

><p>Barbossa paced in his cabin. He was too worked up to go back to sleep. Everyone knew that he was not to be awakened if there wasn't an emergency, including her. How dare she do such a thing?<p>

Bloody pirate.

He'd stayed as far away from her as he could since Madagascar – well, as far as he could on the same ship with neighboring cabins, anyway.

He hadn't missed how Elizabeth had moved slower than usual the first couple days back on the ship, and he'd felt rather proud of that. He'd shown her the difference between bedding a man and bedding a boy, and he knew that she wouldn't forget that anytime soon. He hadn't tried to purposely cause her pain, of course, he'd just bedded her _properly_. It wasn't his fault that she wasn't used to it.

Barbossa smirked. Properly indeed. Three times even.

He decided that he'd let tonight's incident go. He wasn't going to give her the reaction that she was looking for. If she thought that getting him up in the middle of the night meant that he'd take her off crow's nest, she thought wrong. He was going to continue to put her up there, and he didn't care if she woke him every night or not, he wasn't changing his mind. It was a battle of wills, and Barbossa was looking forward to it.

* * *

><p><strong><em>I'd like to thank the 3 people that reviewed the last chapter: BrunetteAuthorette99, Bloodsired and Black Heart. <em>**

**_While I'm so very thankful for their reviews, I'll admit to being a little disappointed at the same time. Last chapter was the 'long-awaited get together' chapter, yet it got the least reviews. It also had 39 views and 36 visitors, not to mention the 35 story favorites and 59 story alerts. AND I had 1 person answer the poll question. One._**

**_Folks, us fanfic writers get no money from our time invested in writing and posting - and trust me, there is a LOT of time spent writing and editing. Hours of it. The ONLY compensation we get is feedback from our readers. When I've got that many eyes reading and only 3 taking the time to leave reviews, that tells me that what I'm posting just isn't worth their time; that it isn't good enough to warrant comments. Even just a 'nice chapter'. And when I post a chapter, that is the best that I'm capable of at that point in time. I'm always striving to improve; writers are never satisfied with their work. But I don't do this full time. I'm 40 years old, I'm still grieving the loss of my mother last year (it's a painful journey, let me tell you), I've got chickens and a garden to tend to, I've got 3 other pets in the house, I've got my business to run, my health blog to update - to be blunt - I don't have the time to put forth more energy (that I don't have, really) into posting chapters that are just going to be ignored. I don't post here because I've got nothing else to do. I post because I'm relying on my readers to give me feedback. I genuinely CARE about what others think. I'm never looking for lengthy reviews - it's about quality, not quantity. Sometimes a simple sentence or two can say more than an entire paragraph. _**

**_I'm not begging for reviews. If the work isn't good enough to encourage them, then it isn't good enough. I can only do the best that I can do each time. I'll post this one and maybe one other chapter, but if my writing isn't good enough to even get a two word review, then I don't need to be posting and wasting my time and yours. Who knows...maybe it's this site. Maybe I need to find another place to post._ **


	14. Acting The Coward

It had been eight days since Madagascar. Eight _long_ days. She couldn't go anywhere on the ship without being reminded of Barbossa's attentions. Her body wanted more, though her brain tried to convince it otherwise. Even in her sleep, his hands and mouth brought her pleasure over and over, and more than once she'd awakened to her own release, shuddering and sighing reluctantly as it seemed she'd lost control of herself.

It was ridiculous.

She tried not to look at Barbossa when he was near, but her memories seemed to take that part of her brain over. She couldn't stop herself from watching when he addressed the crew – his stance confident and certain, much like how he'd been in bed – and her thigh muscles would tighten. She'd watch his face when he talked – he was deliberate and animated in his speech and mannerisms – and it always made her lick her lips, remembering how his kisses had been the perfect expansion of him – initially commanding, but surprisingly gentle.

It was maddening.

Part of her was strangely disappointed that Barbossa hadn't cornered her yet to demand an explanation for her behavior. She missed their talks, when they'd take meals together and sharing a bottle of rum with him. Apparently, he'd come to the same conclusion that she had – that their night together had been a mistake.

But if that was what she wanted, why did it make her feel empty inside?

* * *

><p>"You've got to be joking."<p>

Gibbs shrugged helplessly. He really did not like to be caught between the two of them. "I can't tell him no, Elizabeth. He's the cap'n."

"I've humored him for a week!" she exclaimed, unable to believe his audacity. "I will not continue to go up to the crow's nest. That's not my normal duty, and I just won't do it again."

"You won't?"

She folded her arms. "No. And you can tell him so."

"Elizabeth, he's been right difficult since last port, and I – "

"I don't care. Enough's enough. Goodnight, Mr. Gibbs."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Gibbs was at her door again. He was convinced that something had happened between the captain and Elizabeth in Madagascar, but he kept his suspicions to himself. Something <em>had <em>to have happened; nothing else made sense to explain their behaviors.

"Cap'n says that I'm to take you to the brig for missin' your post," he told her with a heavy sigh. "I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't budge. Angrier than a hornet, he is."

Elizabeth was so furious that she couldn't even speak for a moment. She considered barging into his cabin, but she was afraid of what she might do – not to mention him; they both had a dangerous temper. Her heart was racing, and adrenaline was coursing through her veins.

"Fine," Elizabeth seethed, clenching her teeth. "Let's go."

The captain would regret the day that he ever met her.

* * *

><p>Barbossa watched as Gibbs took Elizabeth to the brig through a secret opening close to the window in his cabin, and he chuckled heartily. He needed to show her that he would always have the upper hand on his ship. And a small part of him wanted to punish her for the way she'd been acting since Madagascar, anyway, so it all came together quite nicely.<p>

Donning a broad smile, Barbossa returned to his table to finish breakfast. Oh yes, Elizabeth would be furious, and at the moment, that fact gave him great joy.

* * *

><p>As soon as she was released that evening, Elizabeth returned to her cabin and dressed in full king regalia – complete with hat and sword – and gathered the officers on deck.<p>

"Speaking as your king, I feel it necessary to remind the captain of my rank. I've let quite a few incidents go over the last few days, but I will not tolerate anymore nonsense. Take Captain Barbossa to the brig."

The men exchanged looks of uncertainty.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and unsheathed her sword, holding it up where they could see it. "Would you all care to join him?"

Gibbs sighed and motioned for the men to follow him. Something had _definitely_ happened between the two – he was positive of that – and the crew was at both of their mercies. The officers followed him to the captain's cabin where he reluctantly knocked on the door.

When Barbossa emerged and saw his officers gathered, he barked, "What be the meanin' of this?"

"Captain, you're being taken to the brig," Elizabeth called out from behind the men with a smug grin.

"On what charges, praytell?" Barbossa growled.

"Jailing your king. I believe that you've forgotten that I outrank you and need a little reminder."

If looks could kill, Elizabeth would have taken her last breath right then. She didn't remember Barbossa ever looking at her with such contempt – such hate – in his eyes.

For a brief moment, Elizabeth wondered if she'd gone too far. She knew that she was dangerously pushing her boundaries, but he'd started it. Did he really expect her to continue to do crow's nest duty every night? She was king, and she would be treated as such, everything else be damned. He was only doing it because she wouldn't warm his bed again, anyway, and enough was enough.

Barbossa said nothing as he allowed himself to be escorted to the brig. He hadn't been that angry since he found out that Bootstrap mailed the cursed coin off to his son, and he was certain that nothing good would come from it.

Quite certain.

* * *

><p>It was after dinner the next evening before Gibbs arrived to release the captain.<p>

Barbossa – still furious twenty-four hours later – headed straight to Elizabeth's cabin in a rush. He'd done nothing but think while being stuck in that metal cage, and he'd decided that he'd had enough. He was running a pirate ship, not a nursery, and if she insisted on continuing her childish behavior, he would return to Madagascar and put her off whether she liked it or not. He didn't care that she was king, and he didn't care that he wanted her again. He was the captain, dammit, and he was going to remind her of that fact.

Barbossa didn't bother to knock when he reached her door. He barged in with a growl and slammed the door behind him, causing her to squeal in surprise.

Elizabeth jumped up from the table where she'd been sitting and scrambled away from him, choosing to stand behind the chair as he came after her, eyes wide and heart racing. She didn't like the wild gleam in Barbossa's eyes.

"Get out of my cabin this instant!" she shrieked as she pointed towards her door.

Barbossa flung the chair that she'd been standing behind out of his way, ignoring another shriek from her, and closed the space between them. "It be _my_ ship, therefore it be _my_ cabin!" he thundered, grabbing her upper arm and pulling her to him with full force. "How dare yeh put me in my own brig! I've every right to throw yeh back in there!"

Elizabeth hadn't been scared of him in a very long time, but she was at the moment. She'd forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of his anger. But she was angry, too.

"You do, and I'll have you keelhauled!"

Barbossa shook her so hard, she almost fell. "Do that, Missy, and I'll make yeh walk the plank again; naked this time!"

Elizabeth used her entire body strength to try and dislodge his grip on her arm, but nothing worked; it was starting to hurt. "The pirate king will never walk the plank! And I wouldn't be naked around you again if you were the last pirate on Earth!"

"Well, I don't fancy anymore guilt trips so that works out perfectly then, don't it?" he yelled, his lips mere inches from hers.

Elizabeth did it before she had time to think. Her palm collided with his cheek, and it resounded throughout the room. She was mad, and right then, she hated him. Hated him for showing up at Ap Lei – hated him for inviting her along – hated him for making her think about a man other than her husband – hated him for making her want him.

With his cheek on fire, Barbossa told himself not to do it, but he was so angry with her, he could not stop himself from shoving her down to the floor as hard as he could. Angry with her for marrying the whelp – angry with her for agreeing to come along – angry with her for being so damned beautiful – angry with her for making him want her.

Elizabeth saw red after being pushed down. She quickly got up and shoved him in the chest as hard as she could.

"Don't touch me!" she exclaimed.

"Not what yeh said the other night," Barbossa spat.

Elizabeth started to slap him again, but he grabbed her wrist, quickly pinning it behind her back. He reached for the other and did the same before pressing their bodies together.

"Do not test me, _Mrs. Turner_," he quietly warned, purposely using her married name again. "I can put yeh off right here, right now."

"And Teague would have your head on a platter," Elizabeth replied with narrowed eyes.

A look of amusement flittered across his face as he laughed quietly. "Well, why don't we find out," he commented, dragging her to the door.

Elizabeth fought him, clawing at him with her free hand. "Stop it!" she yelled. "Let go of me! What is wrong with you?"

Something snapped inside Barbossa then. He stopped walking and whipped around to face her with a glare. "What's wrong with _me_? I could ask yeh the same bloody question. You're the one who's been acting like a child for the past week!"

"I have not!"

"Yeh have so!"

"I have not! I just – I made a mistake, and I was trying to figure out how to handle it!"

Barbossa did not have the reaction to her comment that he thought he would have. The flames of his fury were doused instantly by her admission. He let go of her wrist as if it burned him and took a step away from her. He was ashamed of his reaction, but he couldn't pretend; not that time. Her words cut deep, and he didn't think it was even possible to receive such a wound. But he had. And he hated it.

"I made a mistake, too, apparently," Barbossa said quietly, wishing to repay a wound for a wound. "I shouldn't have asked yeh on this voyage."

With that, he turned around and walked out of her cabin, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Elizabeth stood in dumbfounded silence at what had just transpired. She'd seen Barbossa 'undead', she'd seen him die, she'd seen him alive again, she'd seen him kill, she'd seen him mad and happy and all emotions in between.

That night was the first night that she'd seen Barbossa _hurt_. And it was her fault. She wouldn't have believed it even possible if she hadn't seen it for herself. How could that be, though? He was a pirate. Emotions played no part in his dealings with others.

As she walked back to the table and righted the chair that he'd knocked over, Elizabeth was very confused.

Maybe she did need to return to Ap Lei.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Ragetti was sent to remind Elizabeth that she needed to start looking over their charts. He knocked on the door to her cabin, but when there was no answer, he hesitantly opened the door. Elizabeth was not there, so he headed for the helm.<p>

"Cap'n, Elizabeth ain't in her cabin."

"Check the ship, Ragetti," Barbossa said, his tone even. "She be around somewhere."

* * *

><p>Over an hour later, Ragetti approached the captain once more.<p>

"I looked everywhere, Cap'n. I can't find her."

Barbossa rolled his eyes. "Gibbs!" he yelled. "Help Ragetti find Mrs. Turner. She's apparently found a new hiding spot."

"Aye, Cap'n."

* * *

><p>Another hour later, both Gibbs and Ragetti returned to the helm where Barbossa was.<p>

"Cap'n, we couldn't find her," Gibbs reported. "But we are missing a long boat."

Barbossa's eyes enlarged as his mind raced. If no one could find her and a boat was missing, that meant only one thing – she'd left sometime during the night.

"Gentlemen, we be turnin' the ship around," he stated wearily. Barbossa entertained the thought of leaving her, but he knew those waters, and she would not be safe. Regardless of how they'd treated each other the past number of days, he would not allow her to be in danger.

"Aye, Cap'n," Gibbs replied, noticing the instant look of concern in the other man's eyes. "I'll let the crew know." He was shocked at Barbossa's actions; he'd never known the captain to turn the ship around for anyone. Elizabeth was not just anyone, apparently.

* * *

><p>As Barbossa sat at his table eating dinner, he tried to understand Elizabeth's decision to sneak away. He was both angry and offended. If she wanted to return, all she had to do was say so. He probably would have given her a hard time, but he would have taken her back if that's what she truly wanted.<p>

And to sneak away? Barbossa called that cowardly. Elizabeth was young, but he couldn't remember her ever being a coward. He didn't think she was even capable of such. He couldn't figure out what had possessed her to leave like that. She knew these waters were dangerous, as well, and they were almost two weeks out from Madagascar. She couldn't possibly think that she could make it back.

Barbossa sighed and pushed his plate away. He wasn't all that hungry.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth didn't usually admit to making mistakes (not counting the recent one with Barbossa), but she'd made one. She'd been in the boat less than twelve hours, and she knew that she'd acted in haste. She'd taken some food and wine from the ship, but she was over a week away from port. She had a compass, as well, but her arms were already burning in pain – what had she been thinking?<p>

She hadn't been. She'd just wanted to get away from Barbossa, and she did the only thing she could think of. She took a boat and left. And after what she'd said to him the other night, she doubted that he'd turn around for her. He was probably happy that she'd left.

Now what?

* * *

><p>Barbossa ordered full sails – he knew they'd reach Elizabeth by evening as long as she hadn't veered too far off course – but he was still a bit concerned. And he would be having a talk with her before returning to his original heading. She needed to make a decision once and for all. He would not turn the ship around again. Not even for her.<p>

* * *

><p>As nightfall closed around her, Elizabeth shivered in the damp air. She was exhausted; she had to get a little sleep before continuing. Reaching for the blanket that she'd brought with her, she curled up and tried to let the gentle rocking of the boat lull her to sleep, or at least some semblance of sleep.<p>

Unfortunately, sleep did not come quickly.

* * *

><p>"See anythin' yet?" Barbossa asked up to the crow's nest where Pintel was.<p>

"Not yet. Hard to see in the dark, Cap'n."

"We got all the lamps out. If my calculations be correct, she be out in this area somewhere. Keep lookin'."

He wouldn't admit it, but he was worried. They should have found her by now, and the moon – or lack of – did not help the search. Barbossa hoped that another ship had not found her first. He didn't even like to think about that.

Gibbs knew Barbossa was upset; he could see it in his eyes, and he thought it very curious. Elizabeth certainly brought out a new side to the captain. If his assumptions and suspicions were correct, they'd spent the night together in Madagascar, she started having second thoughts and avoided him, which led to all the back and forth, but ultimately, they both were not only attracted to each other but cared for each other, as well.

"We'll find her," Gibbs remarked in reassurance. "She can't be too far."

Barbossa glanced at him. "She'll be lucky if I don't string her up for this. Ornery strumpet."

Gibbs decided it was best to remain quiet. The captain was vexed something awful over Elizabeth, and he wondered if she knew just how much.

* * *

><p>Thirty minutes later, Pintel called out, "Cap'n! I think I see her! Off starboard!"<p>

When the ship approached, Barbossa saw that she was curled up under a blanket. For just a moment, he thought something had happened to her, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he realized she was only asleep.

It was not lost on Gibbs.

"Hoist up the boat," Barbossa ordered, his voice even. He was both relieved and furious.

It was only a few minutes before Elizabeth climbed onto the deck, keeping the blanket around her for warmth.

"My cabin. Now." Barbossa stomped across the deck away from her.

Elizabeth didn't look at him as she headed for his cabin. She wasn't sure if she was more ashamed or thankful for her rescue as she slowly walked across the deck. She opened the door and stepped in, clutching her blanket.

Barbossa closed the door behind them and then walked by her to the table. He was trying to gather his thoughts, but it wasn't working very well. He sat down and took a drink of rum before speaking. There was so much that he wanted to say, he wasn't sure where to start.

"Yer gonna tell me why yeh took one of me ships and left, and yer gonna tell me now, or I'm gonna throw yeh over the railin' meself," he told her.

Elizabeth swallowed and pulled the blanket around her tighter. She'd pushed him too far – she'd not push him now by trying to pull rank. And he _would_ throw her over; he was not bluffing.

"I thought it would be better if I returned to the port so that I could barter my way back to Ap Lei," she said quietly, looking down at the floor.

Barbossa watched her as she remained by the door, clutching the blanket around her and keeping her head down. She hadn't even acted that uncomfortable her very first night aboard the _Pearl_. Something wasn't right somewhere. "Is that what yeh want?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath, intent on telling him yes, but she couldn't form the words. Her emotions were running amok at the moment, and she really wanted to go to her cabin.

"Could we discuss this tomorrow?" she asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Please?"

Barbossa stood and slowly walked over to her, his boots a heavy thump with each step. "Look at me," he said, standing in front of her.

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, willing him to go away. "I'll talk about it more tomorrow. Just please let me –"

"Look at me!" Barbossa thundered.

Elizabeth frantically opened her eyes, and he was surprised to find tears in them.

"Tell me what yeh want," he said. "Tell me if yeh want to stay or if yeh want to go."

Elizabeth swallowed the knot forming in her throat. Part of her wanted to stay, but another part thought it would be better for her to go. Returning to the cove was not appealing in the least bit, though. She'd already had three years of boredom; she wasn't ready for another seven, especially not when she had an opportunity to go to the Colonies. But after what happened with Barbossa, she wasn't sure if staying was a wise choice, either.

"I should go," she finally said, her voice shaky and quiet.

"I didn't ask what yeh _should_ do, I asked what yeh _wanted_ to do."

Elizabeth bit her lip as her eyes travelled aimlessly around the room. She knew he wouldn't make it easy for her; that's just how he was.

Her eyes met his again. She expected to find a hint of pride or malicious satisfaction in them, but she didn't. He was looking at her quite seriously, almost as if he was worried about what her answer might be. Then their night together flashed through her mind. All of the coy word games that had led up to that night had been discarded at the door. He'd let his guard down for one night – every word and touch had been as genuine as it could be. She felt that he deserved genuine now, regardless of what happened between them.

"I want to stay," Elizabeth said truthfully. She noted that there was a flicker of relief in his eyes before it disappeared.

"If yeh leave like that again, I'll not go after yeh. Is that clear?"

Elizabeth knew his words were her last warning. "I won't do it again," she told him.

Barbossa turned and walked away from her. She watched as he sat down at the table and reached for the rum bottle, not giving her a second look. Apparently, their conversation was over.

Elizabeth took the hint and quietly left, closing the door behind her. She returned to her room and fell to the bed exhausted, but instead of sleeping, she cried.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Boy, Elizabeth has done it now, hasn't she?<em>**

**_Big thank yous to lostsocks54, BrunetteAuthorette99, Bloodsired, Black Heart, Nottipyy, 0oBellina0o and Krushie for leaving reviews for the last chapter. And I *really* appreciate the encouragement - I needed that very much because I was about to just delete everything. Just recently I had a couple reiki treatments done and started meditating; all in an effort to deal with the turbulent emotions from losing Mom. I can happily say that it HAS helped, and I can't express how wonderful of a thing it is. I appreciate everyone for sticking around, even when I couldn't update. _**

**_I started a short Severus/Hermione story called The Knotted Wand. If you'd like to check it out, go to my profile. I hadn't planned on posting it - I've had most of it written for months - but I decided 'what the heck'. It'll be about 5 chapters. _**

**_Thanks again for reading, and I hope to hear from you._**


	15. Trust & Secrets

The next few days were understandably awkward for Elizabeth. She kept her eyes down as she worked, and she spoke only when she had to. She was embarrassed for leaving and embarrassed for coming back. She wondered what the men thought of their king for leaving like she had. They probably thought her foolish; and that didn't make her feel any better. She wanted their respect, not their gossip behind her back.

_Maybe you should have considered that before you stole a boat and left like some immature, scared little girl_, she told herself.

She had no argument for herself, but it was done; she couldn't undo it. She just hoped that everyone forgot in due time. Besides, she was certain that she wasn't the first pirate on board who had done something questionable and, more than likely, she wouldn't be the last.

* * *

><p>After lunch, Elizabeth was standing by the railing, berating herself mentally for leaving for the hundredth time, when Gibbs joined her.<p>

"You be hangin' the jib there, Elizabeth. Everythin' all right?"

She glanced at him and shrugged. "Everything except my pride, I guess," she answered sheepishly.

"Don't think on it," he encouraged her. "You know some of us have done worse than leavin'." He thought it was time to discreetly address what had been on his mind the past number of days. "Have you and the cap'n talked?"

Elizabeth considered Gibbs to be a friend; she'd known him most of her life. He was pretty rough around the edges, but he was a good man underneath the gruff exterior.

"Not really," she answered with a sigh, looking out across the churning ocean. "Not like we had been. He's pretty sore with me, not that I blame him."

Gibbs rested his forearms on the railing beside Elizabeth. "The cap'n was pretty upset when we figured out you were gone, and he was mighty worried 'til we found you. He didn't say that, o'course, but I could see it in his eyes." He paused as he thought about what he wanted to say next. "Forgive me if I'm oversteppin' bounds here, but I've never seen him look upon another lass the way he looks at you. And he wouldn't bring a spring upon her cable for anyone but you, either. You've found great favor with him, Elizabeth. I just hope he's found similar favor with you."

When she turned her head to look at him, Elizabeth saw a knowing look in the older man's eyes, and she wondered if he had figured out that something had happened between them. "He has," she answered truthfully with a small nod. "But Will – "

"Elizabeth, he be a fine man, but he will be gone from you for most of your life. I've known you a long time, and I just don't see you bein' satisfied with that." Gibbs leaned close to her. "Dine with Barbossa tonight, aye?"

Elizabeth smiled when Gibbs winked at her. As he walked away, she thought perhaps the best way to try to gain Barbossa's respect – and the crews' – was to behave as she had previously. Dinner was a good place to start; she had missed that. She would dine with the captain tonight.

If he'd have her, anyway.

* * *

><p>About an hour before mealtime, Elizabeth went in search of the captain. She was nervous, but she held her head high. Thankfully, he was in his cabin when she caught up with him. He hadn't been hateful towards her for the past few days, but he hadn't been overly friendly, either.<p>

Elizabeth knocked on the door and waited.

"What?"

She opened the door and stepped in. A look of surprise briefly flashed across his face.

"Captain, I was wondering if I might join you for dinner tonight."

Barbossa stared at her. He didn't look angry, but he wasn't smiling. He seemed to be contemplating his answer. Elizabeth resisted the urge to shift her weight where she stood or to look away from his steady gaze. She was the king – dammit – she needed to act like one for a change.

He was the one who looked away first, back to his map that he'd been working on.

"If yeh wish to," was his mumbled answer.

"Thank you," she replied and promptly left.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth decided to take just a little care of her appearance for dinner. She changed into one of her cleaner shirts, brushed her hair and tied it back with a velvet ribbon and even dabbed just the tiniest bit of ravensara oil on her wrists. She'd picked it up in Madagascar as medicine for the crew, but it smelled good, and she did miss wearing perfume. He probably wouldn't notice her effort, but she did it, anyway. She didn't do it to impress him, exactly; she hoped that it would be a small step closer to getting back to their regular routine.<p>

"Come in," she heard after knocking on his door.

The table was set, and the food was still warm. Elizabeth noticed the open wine bottle.

"Oh we're having wine tonight," she commented, struggling for conversation. "I was hoping we would." As she sat down in her usual spot, Elizabeth noticed that her favorite dish was on the table; potatoes with gravy. Barbossa detested them and would not usually serve them. Perhaps she wasn't the only one making a little more effort.

"And you had Cook make me potatoes. Thank you."

Barbossa glanced up at her but quickly looked away as he began to fill his plate. He immediately noticed her hair; she didn't usually wear it tied back. It looked good. "Some were goin' bad. Didn't want to waste 'em."

They ate in silence a couple minutes before Barbossa asked, "What's that smell?" He'd noticed a different scent not long after she'd arrived.

Elizabeth shrugged. "The food?"

He shook his head and sniffed again. "It smells…like perfume." He couldn't remember the last time that he'd smelled perfume on her.

Elizabeth's cheeks felt hot; she'd forgotten about the ravensara. "Oh – I put on a little of the oil that I bought in Madagascar. If you don't like it, I can –"

"It be fine," he said quickly, focusing on his food once more. He liked it quite a bit, but he wouldn't tell her that.

Elizabeth hated the silence, but at least they were eating together again. She knew that it would be up to her to initiate conversation.

"So, I've been thinking – I want to have more of a presence on board," she began, her heart fluttering some. "I should be making rounds during the day, checking to make sure everyone is doing what they're supposed to be doing, checking supplies, that sort of thing. And I can still look over the charts, as well." She nearly held her breath awaiting his response. She half expected him to laugh at her.

Barbossa finished his mouthful of food and considered her request. He had to give her credit – she was trying harder than he thought she would. He respected that.

"The crew has to trust yeh."

Elizabeth swallowed the jab; she deserved it. "They will," she said. "They can. Captain, I – leaving was wrong. It was selfish of me, and I – I wasn't thinking clearly. It will not happen again."

Barbossa hoped that she spoke the truth for more reasons than one. "Do I have yer word?"

Elizabeth offered a small smile. "You have my word, Captain."

Barbossa gave her a long, hard stare. "Start tomorrow," he told her. "We need to start goin' over inventories and checkin' the ship, anyway." There were many questions that he wanted to ask her, but he would not.

Her leaving like she had had given him all the answers that he needed.

* * *

><p>Barbossa, Gibbs and Elizabeth met the next day to go over everyone's duties from the Quartermaster (which was Gibbs' title) to the cook and everyone in between. Gibbs wanted to work more with the Boatswain &amp; Cooper, so he relinquished a few of his responsibilities to Elizabeth; mostly the recordkeeping since she was already navigating. Barbossa had hired on a doctor of sorts before leaving Madagascar (a real doctor; not an empiric), and he wanted the medical man to meet with everyone before reaching the Colonies to check them over. Gibbs and Elizabeth set about making a schedule of all that needed to be done.<p>

"And I got Woodie puttin' oakum in the seams and checkin' for any leaks, as well," Gibbs was saying, referring to their carpenter.

"What about Gunner?" Elizabeth asked, tapping the end of her quill on her cheek as she scribbled notes. "He's double checked all the canons, yes?"

"Yes. We got plenty of gunpowder that he's constantly siftin' to keep dry," Gibbs answered. "Plus he's busy makin' grenadoes."

"Do we anticipate taking any ships before our rendezvous? Elizabeth asked glancing at Barbossa. She'd purposely been the one to grab the quill and paper first so that Barbossa would see that she was serious about what she'd said the previous night.

"Possibly," Barbossa answered. "The Atlantic be teamin' with Brits, but I be hopin' to stay south of 'em."

"How much longer 'til we reach Tortuga?" Gibbs asked.

"A couple more months at the most," Barbossa told him.

When silence fell upon the table, Elizabeth looked at the captain. "Is that it then?"

Gibbs shrugged and looked at Barbossa, so the captain said, "Apparently, this interview has concluded for the time bein'. Get busy then. There be a lot of loot out there for the takin', and I want everything in order."

"Aye Cap'n," Gibbs said, quickly leaving while Elizabeth gathered her lists so she could take them back to her cabin to organize them.

Barbossa cleared his throat where he sat. "Will yeh be joinin' the crew for dinner?" He'd argued with himself internally that he wasn't going to ask her. So much for that.

Elizabeth looked over at him in surprise. "Um…no. I wasn't planning on it."

"I see. Well, I'll have extra if yeh care to join me later," he told her before standing and exiting the cabin.

Elizabeth quickly gathered her papers and went back to her cabin. Barbossa had asked her to join him for dinner. _In his own way_, she thought with a smile. _But it still counts._

* * *

><p>As Elizabeth sat in her cabin rewriting her notes, she admitted to herself that she had been concerned that Barbossa wouldn't want anything to do with her after she'd left like she had, but if he was asking her to join him for dinner – sort of – then perhaps he wasn't as angry with her as she thought he'd be. She'd had a momentary lapse of reason; that was all. Leaving Madagascar had caused her to be overwhelmed, and she'd panicked.<p>

The damned thing of it all was that she still wanted him, more than ever. When Elizabeth crawled into bed each evening, her mind was filled with images from their night together. She couldn't stop them, though she tried. A little.

Barbossa had been so different that night; Elizabeth couldn't forget it. The way he'd looked at her, his demeanor towards her, the things he'd said to her – it all played over and over in her mind. She instantly remembered their second time.

* * *

><p><em> They'd been asleep only a couple hours. Elizabeth was lying on her side with Barbossa pressed against her back, his arm over her waist. She woke up to him nuzzling her neck, his hand fondling her breasts and his erect manhood pressing against her backside. <em>

_ "Ready for me to show you another position?" he whispered huskily in her ear while gently pinching a nipple._

_ Elizabeth moaned as her body began to respond to his touch. She pressed back against him and replied, "More than ready, Hector."_

_ "Mmm, good girl," he purred, pinching her nipple just hard enough to make her gasp before pushing her over. _

_ "On my stomach?" she asked as he rolled onto her. He pushed her thighs open with his knees, holding himself up on his forearms and then he leaned close. _

_ "Aye," he said. "On your stomach. One of my favorites."_

_ While he put on another condom, Elizabeth pushed the pillows on to the floor out of her way. At first, she didn't think that they'd be able to kiss in that position – something he was especially good at – but she quickly learned that they could when she turned her head back towards him. He seized her mouth and ravished it while slipping his arm under her body. She felt him gently prodding her entrance but was uncertain that they'd be able to join that way. She should have known better, though, as it was only moments before he was inside of her again. _

_ Once more, the room was filled with their moans as Barbossa filled her repeatedly, the bed squeaking in rhythm with them. Elizabeth wrapped her hands around the bed frame in front of her while Barbossa tightened his arm around her body, his speed increasing. When he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled back, forcing her head up off the mattress, it sent ripples throughout her entire body causing her to cry out and also causing her inner muscles to tighten around him. _

_ "Yeh like that, don't yeh?" Barbossa growled. "Like havin' your hair pulled?"_

_ "God yes," Elizabeth breathed, her throat stretched still. _

_ "And how 'bout this position? How does it feel?"_

_ "It feels amazing. I love it," she breathed. _

_ He leaned close to her ear again as he stilled his hips briefly. "Yeh like bein' held underneath me while I take my pleasure, aye?"_

_ Elizabeth groaned at his words; they were true. "Very much," she answered, pushing against him. "Mmm…why did you stop?"_

_ Barbossa chuckled. "So I could do this."_

_ He let go of her hair and held on to the frame, his hands above hers, before slamming back into her, causing her to emit a garbled cry of pain and pleasure. His years of unsatisfied lust consumed him once more as he submitted to his carnal side that was so very hungry. Part of him wanted the moment to last as long as possible while another wanted to rush through to completion. After being starved of physical pleasure for so long, he gave into the latter. _

_ Somewhere way back in Elizabeth's mind, she knew whoever occupied the rooms on either side of theirs could more than likely hear them, but she was completely incapable of caring. Barbossa's control of her and their union was more than exquisite. She couldn't move much, but there was a strangely submissive side of her that bathed in his dominance. _

_ Then she felt it – the stirrings of her release just beyond her reach. It hadn't happened the first time; it hadn't happened during intercourse with Will at all. _

_ "Barbossa," she panted. "I feel…I'm close to…I – "_

_ "Touch yourself," he growled. "I be ready, too."_

_ Sliding a hand under her body, Elizabeth could just reach the sensitive nub desperate for attention. After only a few flicks of her fingers – and combined with his relentless thrusts – Elizabeth exploded underneath him, fisting the sheets in her free hand that had slipped from the bed frame. _

_ Barbossa was only moments behind her, holding her tight against him as he came. There was no way to describe how it felt to be a man once more, and being with Elizabeth doubled that. She was so much more than he anticipated, and she seemed to like some of the same things that he did, which was an even bigger turn on. _

_ He'd told himself that he would keep a certain 'intimate' distance from her, but after slipping from her and turning her over, he forgot all about that and crashed his mouth to hers in a long, wet kiss. _

_ Elizabeth was overcome with emotion and panting when his mouth left hers. "Wow…that was…" She searched her foggy brain for the right word. "Effective."_

_ He chuckled at her word choice as he lay beside her, his breathing labored, as well. "Effective," he repeated. _

_ "Well…yes. That's never happened during intercourse before."_

_ "Never?" he asked as he disposed of the condom._

_ "Never."_

_ Barbossa smirked as he put the pillows back on the bed for them. "So that was a first then, I'm to understand?" Perhaps the whelp hadn't quite taken all of her firsts just yet. He felt rather proud of himself. _

_ "Yes it was. And I really like that position, too."_

_ "It be one of my favorites."_

_ Elizabeth breathed deeply as sleep began to tug at the corners of her consciousness. "I can see why. I think it'll be one of mine, too."_

_ When she rolled over towards him, he didn't move away and instead moved his arm so that she could snuggle up against him as sleep claimed them both._

* * *

><p>A knock on the door startled Elizabeth. She jumped up to find Pintel on the other side.<p>

"Gibbs says I'm ta tell you that the doc wants ta speak wiv you," he said and then walked away.

"Thank you," she called out, hastily leaving her cabin. _Anything to get my mind on something else._

* * *

><p>When Elizabeth left after dinner, Barbossa remained at the table for a few minutes. Dinner had been strained, to say the least, but the odd part was that he wasn't sure as to why. While he did keep a distance between them, he did not treat her coldly as he had the first few days after her 'trip' out to sea, yet there was still something off. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to be her. She'd been friendly enough, but her mind had been preoccupied, and he could only guess about what. She seemed perfectly at ease getting over their night together, so he reasoned that her thoughts must be on her whelp husband. Most days, Barbossa didn't like him. Elizabeth failed to notice that in all the scheming at World's End, her husband had been more focused on his father than her. He hadn't mentioned it to her, of course, because he knew how it would come across, but it didn't change the truth. He'd had a couple chats with Gibbs about it, though; the other man had noticed the same thing. Will's main focus throughout the entire trip had been what he could do for his father, not for her, and Barbossa never liked that, knowing that most of her goal had been him.<p>

Barbossa had caught Elizabeth looking at him a few times throughout their meal, but he'd been unable to decipher what the looks meant. She didn't seem angry or upset, and he didn't think that it was confusion. He thought maybe there had been curiosity there, but what would she be curious about? She _knew_ him intimately, so there was nothing to wonder about there. And it certainly wasn't longing because she'd proven that she didn't want him anymore. So what in the blazes was it?

"Oh Jack," Barbossa said as the little monkey jumped into his lap. "What have I get meself into with her?"

Jack, sensing his owner's troubled thoughts, lay down in his lap and allowed Barbossa to pet him.

* * *

><p>"How's it goin' with the cap'n?" Gibbs asked a couple days later. He'd noticed that things between them didn't seem as strained, but it didn't exactly seem right, either. He thought it might be time to pry just a bit more.<p>

Elizabeth looked at the older man. They were in the storeroom checking the barrels in case any needed repair or to be broken down to save space.

"It's all right, I guess," she answered with a shrug. "We're having dinners together again, at least."

"Aye. He missed that."

"What?" she asked in shock. "Did he tell you that?"

"He don't have to. Barbossa speaks loudest with his actions. Haven't you noticed?"

"I…well…"

"And he's been different ever since Madagascar," Gibbs said purposely with a shifty glance towards her, noticing immediately how she stiffened.

"Really?" she said, trying to sound nonchalant as she looked at – but didn't really see – the barrel in front of her. "What makes you say that?"

"I'll tell ya, Elizabeth, you should have seen him the mornin' we left," Gibbs began, watching her reactions carefully. "Smilin', jovial, just as happy as a wench when the ships sail in, he was. I've never seen him like that before. I don't know what happened, but not long after returnin' to the ship, he grew angrier than a hornet. Almost as angry as he'd get with Sparrow. And this might sound a bit odd, but he looked betrayed."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and turned her head. She hadn't known that he'd been so noticeably different after their night together. Why the change? Why would he get so upset over something that hadn't meant that much to him in the first place? What they had was just physical, after all. There were no emotions involved.

"And I've watched him since then," Gibbs continued, noticing the guilty expression on her face. "That twinkle in his eyes seems to be gone. I just don't get it."

Elizabeth sat down on the top of a crate then and sighed. "I do," she said quietly, shaking her head. She'd promised herself that she would never tell what had happened, but the burden of keeping the secret was proving to be too much to bear, especially after listening to Gibbs.

"What do you mean?" he asked in feigned ignorance.

She looked up at him with a pained expression on her face. "If I tell you something, you must promise me that you will never repeat it to another soul as long as you live."

Gibbs knelt down in front of her where she sat. "Elizabeth, I be knowin' you since you were a wee lass. I know I be a pirate, but you can trust me. I won't say nothin'."

Elizabeth gazed into his eyes and seemed to find only truth reflected in them. She knew that she was taking a huge chance, but she had to tell someone. Other than the captain, he was the only other person on the ship that she thought she could confide in.

She looked down at her lap and said quietly, "We spent the night together in Madagascar."

Gibbs was not surprised; he'd already assumed it. "Well, that explains his happiness, but what happened after we returned to the ship?"

Elizabeth lifted guilty eyes to his. "It was just the one night."

"So, nothing since then?" he clarified.

Elizabeth shook her head.

"But why?" he asked boldly. "He would – "

"It was my choice."

Gibbs quickly put two and two together. "You felt guilty because of Turner. And that's why you left the ship."

Elizabeth nodded again.

Gibbs studied the young lady. She didn't look very happy with her choice.

"Do you not want to be with him again?"

Elizabeth stood up and walked away a couple steps. "No – I mean – I'm married. I shouldn't have done it the first time."

Gibbs stood, too. "That not be what I asked you. I asked if you wanted to be with him again."

Elizabeth wanted to answer in some form, but she remained quiet. She couldn't say no, she knew that, but she couldn't say yes.

"So you do then," he concluded, causing her to turn around.

"I'm so confused," she admitted to him. "Our night together was wonderful, but I keep thinking about Will."

"Have you ever thought that he might be doin' the same thing?"

"I don't think Will would be that selfish," she instantly defended, crossing her arms.

"I do. He was that selfish when it came to freein' his father."

Elizabeth didn't understand and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He schemed from the beginnin' to free Bootstrap. Nothin' was as important as that. You remember how he went behind all of our backs – includin' yours – to ensure that he could save him. Barbossa wanted to keelhaul him for that, he did."

Elizabeth thought about what Gibbs had said. She hadn't considered Will's actions in that way before. She knew that he had been doing everything that he could to rescue his father, but she'd never thought that he'd put the older man first. She'd always thought that she'd been first.

"Yes, I guess he did go behind all of our backs," she finally said. She'd have to think about that a bit more.

"And, Elizabeth, since we be sharin' secrets, it was no coincidence that we stopped by Shipwreck Cove."

"But Barbossa said – "

"I know what he said, but the real reason we were there was to get you."

Elizabeth's eyes enlarged as her heart beat faster. "Really? I didn't – I had no idea. I thought – "

"He be a right proud pirate," Gibbs continued. "You know that he wouldn't admit that to you."

Elizabeth bit her lip. He'd purposely come to get her? "Why are you telling me all this?"

Gibbs smiled at her. "Because I hate to see two people who obviously want to be together not be," he answered. "Life be awfully short, and bein' a pirate don't lengthen it none."

"So I'm to just forget about Will then? I love him."

"I wouldn't say forget about him, but maybe you should think of who he put first a few years ago and who made a special trip to Singapore just to get you," Gibbs said before walking away. He knew that he'd given her a lot to think about.

Elizabeth sat back down on the crate and stayed there a long time.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Special thanks to 0oBellina0o, lostsocks54, Krushie, Bloodsired and BrunetteAuthorette99 for your reviews - they mean the world to me!<em>**

**_Who would have thought that Gibbs could be a bit of a match maker? I personally think he's a romantic at heart._**

**_So are Barbossa and Elizabeth playing somewhat nice, or is it just the calm before another storm?_**


	16. Two Can Play This Game

As Elizabeth lie awake in bed the next night, her thoughts bounced back and forth between Barbossa and Will. She'd given quite a bit of thought to her talk with Gibbs, and she realized that he was right – she just hadn't wanted to admit it to herself. She didn't doubt that Will loved her, but he _did_ change after he learned that his father was still alive, and he _had_ left her out of his plans in Singapore. And who did he get to spend more time with? His father, not her.

She still couldn't believe that Barbossa had come for her. A little part of her had hoped so, but she never thought it to be true. Who knew how many weeks or months they'd missed by going by Shipwreck Cove. That meant a great deal to her. It also told her volumes about Barbossa.

Elizabeth's thoughts automatically drifted to Madagascar again. She fondly remembered their last time together.

_When she awoke sometime later, she decided to wake him up in her own way. She gently rolled over and slipped her arm over his hip, quickly finding what she was looking for. It wasn't long before the soft flesh in her hand began to grow hard, and Barbossa moaned as he slowly woke up from her attentions. _

_ "I hope yeh be plannin' to finish what yeh start."_

_ "Or maybe I'll let you,' Elizabeth teased. "Tell me what you like. Am I doing this all right?"_

_ "It be nice, but I also like this." Barbossa's hand covered hers as it slid up and down his length. He tightened his fist at the tip and loosened it as it went down. "Keep your hand closed as much as possible at the top. Makes it feel more like you."_

_ "Like this?" she asked, adjusting her method. _

_ "Mmm yeah. Perfect. And throw in this every now and then." Barbossa moved her hand to his scrotum and squeezed. _

_ "Doesn't that hurt?"_

_ "No, feels good."_

_ Elizabeth continued to pleasure him until he couldn't take anymore and pushed her hand away. _

_ "Not how I want to finish," he told her, reaching for the last condom and rolling it on. He covered her body with his and kissed her. _

_ It wasn't his usual fiery kiss; it was gentle and slow. He dropped his mouth to her neck and collarbone, leaving a wet trail in its wake before claiming her mouth once more in a languid joining. It made Elizabeth's toes curl, and she reached down to guide him inside of her. _

_ Barbossa allowed her to control the pace, taking his time as he entered her. He couldn't see her eyes, but he could hear her, and the long moan that emanated from her was music to his ears. He wanted to hear it again and again, tomorrow and the next day, and that concerned him. It had been a long time since he'd let a woman capture his heart. _

_ Elizabeth immediately recognized that that last time with him was unlike the other times. He did not hurry nor did he allow his passion to determine their course. She wrapped her legs around him, groaning when she realized how it changed his angle inside her. There was a connection with him whether she wanted to admit it or not. _

_ "Hector," she breathed as he pumped his hips slowly. "The way you make me feel…"_

_ "Aye, yeh make me feel, as well," he said quietly. "Yeh be beautiful, Elizabeth; so very beautiful."_

_ "More," she moaned. "I need more of you."_

_ Barbossa slid his arms under her back, cradling her, as she wrapped her arms and legs around him as tight as she could; she couldn't get close enough to him. _

_ With his face buried in the crook of her neck, his moans and words were muffled. He really couldn't remember when he'd fit so perfectly with someone, and that felt like both a blessing and a curse. He knew that she was not his to keep, but when he came, he couldn't stop her name from spilling from his lips._

_ Elizabeth held him throughout his release. She knew that he'd only brought three condoms, so that was her last time with him. And she was a little sad about that. _

_ Barbossa lifted his head from her neck to kiss her gently. "Yeh need one more, as well," he told her. He rolled to his back, disposed of the condom and then reached for her. "Get on top of me. Legs on either side…yeah like that. Now come here."_

_ Elizabeth leaned over to kiss him as his hands slipped to the core of her body. His fingers danced between her legs, and her gasps forced her mouth away from his. _

_ "God are you good at that," she sighed as she held herself up on her palms. "Oh yes…keep doing that…God of Heaven…where did you learn…nevermind. I don't want to know. Can you…a little faster…mmm – "_

_ "Do yeh trust me?"_

_ "You know I do."_

_ "Rest on your forearms," he told her, waiting until she readjusted herself. "Tell me when yeh be close."_

_ "Okay."_

_ "Try to hold your hips still."_

_ "That's difficult, but I'll try."_

_ Barbossa's fingers continued to flutter over her sensitive flesh as her muscles clenched tighter and tighter. _

_ "Oh god…close…so close," Elizabeth breathed. When she felt just the tip of his finger slip into her back entrance – something she was not expecting – her entire body froze as it felt like it exploded into a million pieces within her skin. Overcome with a new pleasure, she bit his neck in an effort to stifle her cries as an intense orgasm ripped through her._

_ When Elizabeth collapsed on top of Barbossa, she was panting and trying to catch her breath. Her body felt heavy and wonderfully limp, so she laid still._

_ "All right there?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her. His neck still tingled where she'd bit down. A part of him hoped that he'd be able to see remnants of it tomorrow. _

_ "I've never felt anything so intense in my life," she told him. "I didn't know that particular spot would feel like that."_

_ "It does if it's done right."_

_ They lay still a bit longer until Elizabeth asked, "Should I move? I'm probably too much weight on your chest like this."_

_ "Yeh be fine," Barbossa assured her as he gently stroked her hair and listened to her breathe. _

_ They didn't speak again until morning. _

Elizabeth turned over for the fortieth time. As the dark surrounded her, she finally allowed herself to fully admit that she did care quite a bit for Barbossa. She'd been trying to convince herself that the attraction to him was purely physical, but it wasn't. She'd had a few thoughts during their night together that maybe he cared some for her, too, and Gibbs words seemed to confirm that.

She moaned in frustration. Just what she needed – to make a complicated situation more complicated.

* * *

><p>At dinner a couple nights later, Elizabeth's curiosity got the better of her – as it was wont to do – and she decided to ask Barbossa a few questions about Singapore to see what he would say.<p>

She waited until there was a lull in their conversation. "You know, you never did tell me what you were doing in Singapore."

The topic caught Barbossa off guard. "We'd been nearby," he answered. "Didn't seem right to pass by without stoppin'."

"Didn't you tell me that you'd spent most of the past three years around the Caribbean?"

Barbossa nodded, wishing that she would change the subject. "A fair bit of time."

"So what brought you so far east? It takes months to get there from the Islands."

"The waters in between be profitable," he answered with a shrug.

"How many ships did you pillage?"

Barbossa frowned across the table. "What's with the questions? Would yeh like for me to fetch Gibbs to go over the logs?" he asked, his sarcasm obvious.

"I'm sorry. I was only curious. I'm not familiar with the waters around Shipwreck Island."

When Barbossa noticed her chagrined visage, he sighed and said against his better judgment, "We caught a few."

That was Elizabeth's opportunity. "Really?" she said, feigning confusion. "Gibbs said that you hadn't taken any."

Barbossa's eyes enlarged before he cleared his throat; he knew he'd said too much. "Gibbs also be enjoyin' a right many hogsheads, too," he defended, not liking the line of questioning at all. She was too damn smart for her own good.

Elizabeth lifted an eyebrow in disbelief at his response. "I seriously doubt that he drank so much that he forgot that he'd raided ships."

"Are yeh sayin' I be lyin'?"

A small voice way back in Elizabeth's brain told her to mind the change in his voice, but she chose to ignore it. Instead, she shrugged and answered, "I just know what he said. I'm sure you have no reason to lie. Maybe I just misunderstood." She thought for a moment and then erroneously added, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse you. I'll go talk to Gibbs again."

By the time she'd stood and walked around the table to head for the door, Barbossa had met her, grabbing her upper arm.

"Yeh don't need to be doin' that."

"But I must have heard him incorrectly," she explained, ignoring that inner voice that was screaming for her to stop. His hold was firm, but he was not hurting her. It was the closest they'd stood in weeks.

"I told yeh. Just too many spirits," he repeated.

Elizabeth's eyes met the captain's, and she saw an interesting expression staring back at her. It almost looked like he was silently pleading with her not to leave. All she wanted was to hear him say that he'd come specifically for her. She'd hoped her gentle pushing would encourage him, so she decided to push just once more.

"Captain," she said quietly. "None of the crew can remember any raids." Elizabeth knew she'd crossed a line the moment that the words left her lips by his reaction to them. _I tried to tell you_, her inner voice warned. _But you wouldn't listen. You just have to do things your way. _

Anger flashed across Barbossa's face instantly, and he narrowed his eyes. He'd had quite enough from her. "Get out of me cabin," he growled, shoving her arm away from him and turning to walk towards the back of the cabin. "Dinner be over."

"But Captain – "

"I said get out!" he exclaimed, feeling like a caged animal once more as he kept his back to her. Barbossa did not like being cornered like she was cornering him. He didn't have to explain his actions to anyone, not even her.

"But I want to know – "

"I don't care what yeh want to know!"

"Why can't you just tell me that – "

Barbossa whipped around to face her with a patronizing gleam in his eyes. "What? Yeh want to hear me say that I made a special trip for yeh? Is that it? Well, I didn't! Why would I do that? I don't make special trips for no one!"

Elizabeth knew that she deserved his virulence because she'd pushed him too far, but it still hurt. She nodded as she bit her lip, willing away her emotion. "I see," she whispered. "Well, I was hoping you had." And then she left.

After the door closed behind her, Barbossa took the nearly empty bottle of wine from the table and threw it at the door, smashing it into tiny fragments of glass.

How had she found out? He'd told no one. The last thing that he ever wanted her to know was that he went just for her. But she knew. Somehow. Barbossa didn't understand.

_She'd said that she was hopin' I had_, he thought. _What did that mean?_ He'd tried his best to keep his affection for her purely physical, but it wasn't, and he knew it. If she'd been hoping he had come special for her, did that mean that her interest had been more than just physical, too?

_A woman can care about two men at the same time_, his inner voice reminded him. _Maybe that's_ _why she reacted like she did after Madagascar because she'd discovered that she'd cared a bit more than she thought she did_.

Could Elizabeth care for him then? Barbossa did not fear many things, but he was afraid to hope that such a thing could be true.

_Then why not just ask me_, he thought in annoyance. _Why the word game? _

As Barbossa paced in his cabin, he told himself that he would just forget the conversation. He told himself that he would go to bed and put whatever feelings for her that he might have had way out of his thoughts. He told himself that he was being ridiculous. He told himself that he'd had his one night with her and that he'd leave her alone from then on.

Next thing he knew, Barbossa was hastily leaving his cabin, crunching over the broken glass, and heading to hers. _Two can play this game_, he thought, unable to stop himself. _If she can corner me, then I can corner her. _When he reached her door, he didn't knock. She'd been sitting at the small table when he burst in.

"Why did yeh react the way yeh did after we left Madagascar?" he asked, frustration obvious as he stomped over to her. It was then he saw that she'd been crying.

Elizabeth wiped her face and stood. "I told you," she said, crossing her arms protectively. "I'd made a mistake."

"I think yeh be lyin' to me."

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "I am not lying."

"Then why were you hopin' that I'd come to Singapore just to get yeh if Madagascar was a mistake?" Barbossa barked.

It was Elizabeth's turn to be cornered, and she didn't like how it felt. Leave it to that damned pirate to use her own trick on her.

"Get out," she told him, eyes ablaze.

"Don't like that, do yeh?"

Elizabeth turned away from him. _Dammit!_

"I don't think yeh believe it was a mistake at all," Barbossa continued, enjoying pushing her the way she'd pushed him.

"Oh I see," she said, turning around. "So this is where I'm supposed to say 'what – you want to hear me say that it wasn't a mistake', right? Is that it? Well, I won't!" If he wouldn't, then she wouldn't, either.

Barbossa stared at her for a moment and nodded. "Now yeh know how it feels. Maybe I was hopin' that it hadn't been a mistake, and maybe I wanted to hear yeh say it, too." Then he left with a slam of the door behind him.

Elizabeth sat back down at the table, dropping her head to her forearms.

She was in so much trouble.

* * *

><p>Gibbs noticed that Barbossa and Elizabeth avoided each other over the next few days, and it drove him mad as he was the only one who knew what was going on. He'd said all that he could say to her, and he was not about to say anything to the captain. He really wanted to throw them both overboard until they figured it out. One was just as stubborn as the other, and they were hurting each other needlessly. All he could do was hope that they came to their senses sooner rather than later or their voyage to the Colonies might never happen.<p>

* * *

><p>As Elizabeth tried to focus on the chart in front of her, her mind was filled with thoughts of Barbossa, as it always seemed to be. She was driving herself insane, really. Since admitting to herself that she did care about him, her feelings seemed more intense, and that was the very last thing that she needed. She was married, and she loved Will. Their marriage was in no way normal, though; Gibbs had been right – they would be apart for the majority of said marriage, so what kind of marriage was it, really?<p>

_It was a marriage of desperation_, her inner voice answered. _That's what it was_.

Elizabeth could not disagree – it _had_ been desperation. They'd both assumed that one of them – or both – would not make it off of that ship alive, and so they'd panicked. They had been planning to marry already, but for the first time in three years, she wondered what would have happened had they not married on the ship. Would she have married him at Shipwreck Cove, anyway, before he left, or would they have come to the conclusion, with him being captain of _The Flying Dutchman_ and all that went with it, that marrying wouldn't have been the best choice, regardless of how they'd felt?

If Elizabeth had had even a little time to think, she was fairly certain that she wouldn't have married Will because it just wouldn't have been fair to either of them. It didn't mean that she loved him any less, but if she'd had time to consider their 'new' situation, she wouldn't have done it. Knowing Will the way she did, he would have fought her on the decision initially, but eventually he would have agreed that marrying – with them being apart so much – would not have been wise.

She remembered something that Teague had told her not long after Will had left – _"Just because you want somethin', Lizzie, don't mean that you should have it. Just because you want somethin' don't mean it be the best choice for you."_

Teague was a wise old pirate.

Even though she loved Will dearly, it didn't mean that marrying him had been the best choice for her.

Perhaps Madagascar had not been the mistake. Perhaps marrying Will had been.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Oh these two. They're something else, aren't they?<em>**

**_Thanks to BrunetteAuthorette99, snapeygirl, Black Heart, Sini, Bloodsired, Krushie and RG111 for their reviews last chapter. You all light up my inbox!_**

**_Did everyone go trick or treating tonight?_**


	17. I'll Stay

Elizabeth did not like having dinner without Barbossa. Sometimes she joined the crew when she didn't dine with the captain, but she often felt that her presence interrupted their usual _colorful_ conversations. (She'd tried to tell them to treat her as just another crewmember, but Gibbs wouldn't let them.) More often than not, when she wasn't with Barbossa, she dined in her room alone. It was really the only time that she felt lonely.

_It's your own fault_, she heard in her head, and she couldn't argue. It _was_ her fault. But what was so wrong with wanting to hear from the captain that he'd made a special trip for her? He didn't have to shout it from the crow's nest for all to hear, but why couldn't he tell her? They'd already shared so much together; she didn't see why he couldn't share that with her, too.

_You do so know why. He's prideful, and you're married. Why should he confess something like that for you to turn around and run back to Will? If the roles were reversed, would you?_

Elizabeth knew the answer to that question, and it was no. If Barbossa had a wife that was stuck somewhere far away from him like Will was, she wouldn't admit anything emotional, either, for fear of being rejected when the wife returned. She couldn't really blame Barbossa for not wanting to tell her.

But that didn't mean that she didn't want to hear it, anyway.

* * *

><p>As Barbossa stood at the helm, his fingers tightly curled around the handles of the wheel, it was one of only a few times in his entire life that he could remember wanting to be anywhere but on a ship.<p>

And it was because of _her._

Barbossa had asked himself a thousand times why he made the long trip to Shipwreck Island to get her; he'd known she was married, after all. He was certainly not naïve enough to think that he'd win over her charms, and in the beginning, he'd honestly not given serious thought to the chance of her warming his bed – he'd just wanted her back on his ship. Oh he'd had fantasies, yes, but it wasn't until they'd spent some time together that he began to think he might be able to make them real.

What he hadn't counted on was being driven absolutely mental by her indecisiveness. He knew Elizabeth well enough to know she'd feel a bit guilty about being with someone other than her husband, but he hadn't thought that he'd become her personal yo-yo.

_You could send her off in one of those little boats that she stole not long ago_, his frazzled brain offered. _Or you could find the nearest speck of land and leave her there. You are the captain, after all. _

_ Aye, but she be the king_, he argued back.

_Of bloody pirates. Who's going to care?_

When he couldn't argue back, he heard, _Ah there's the problem. You care. _

Barbossa stifled a growl where he stood. He _did_ care. In fact, he hadn't cared for anyone so much since Catherine many years ago. As foolish as he knew it was, and as often as he'd tried to tell himself to stop, he couldn't.

He reminded himself that his voyage to the Colonies would more than likely be his last. He told himself that he'd have plenty of time to nurse his wounds later when it was all over and she returned to the whelp. Maybe it made him sound like an old, washed up pirate, but in a twisted way, he would rather have her on board and making him crazy than not.

Not that he'd ever admit that, of course.

* * *

><p>Two days later, Elizabeth was helping Doc organize his supplies when she suddenly heard shouting from the main deck.<p>

"What's going on?" she asked.

"The crewmen aren't fighting, are they?" Doc asked. Having only joined them in Madagascar, he was still familiarizing himself with the crewmen and their routines.

Elizabeth listened a few moments longer. "I don't think so. It sounds like – "

"Cap'n has spotted ship!" Huang yelled as he ran into the medical room on his way up to the main deck. "We attack!"

As he ran out as quickly as he ran in, Elizabeth and Doc exchanged looks of alarm.

With Doc calling after her, Elizabeth rushed from the room, up the wooden steps and across the deck to her cabin. Her heart was racing madly as she hastily grabbed her gun and sword. It had been a long time, but she was ready.

When she ran out on deck, everyone was in a panic as they readied their various weapons. She saw the ship that they were approaching; it was smaller than the _Imperial_, but she wasn't sure if it was British or not. She supposed it didn't matter. They could use whatever might be on the ship.

"What are yeh doin'?" she heard behind her.

Elizabeth turned around and saw Barbossa standing there.

"Apparently we're getting ready to attack that ship. What do you think I'm doing?"

Barbossa shook his head. "Yer to go below with Doc," he told her and immediately held up a hand as her mouth dropped in protest. "Don't be arguin' with me. It not be because yer a lass – I know yeh be more than capable – it be because yer the king. Yeh also be the only one that's been working with Doc lately, and he might need some help."

Elizabeth was furious, but she knew better than to argue with him. She threw her sword to the deck, thrust the gun into his hand and stomped away to join Doc.

Bloody pirates.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Elizabeth was helping Doc treat the wounds of nine of their men. There were a couple gunshot wounds, but there were mostly stab wounds. Three were somewhat serious but not fatal. A few other crew members were rushing around helping Doc and Elizabeth, and there was so much chaos in the room that she didn't see the last person that they brought in. She was working with Woodie trying to dress one of Pintel's wounds when she heard a groan that she knew all too well.<p>

Elizabeth whipped around as Captain Barbossa was placed on a small cot not far from her.

"Hector!" she called out in a panic, oblivious to the curious looks she received. Elizabeth's heart was suddenly in her throat as she ran over to him. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Took a sword wound in the side," Gibbs answered, worry etched on his weathered face as Doc cut away the captain's shirt that was already stained dark red.

"Looks like he's lost a lot of blood," Doc told them. "Elizabeth, put your hand here, and press hard. We need to stop the bleeding so I can clean the wound and bandage it."

Elizabeth did as he instructed, but she felt like she was in another world as she stared at the captain's face. He was pale and unconscious, and she pushed away memories from Isla del Muerta that wanted to surface. She didn't understand all things medical, so she wasn't sure if she should be worried or not.

"How serious is this?"

Doc was rushing to clean the deep wound. "Blood loss looks like it was great which means it will take longer for the body to heal. The sword could have punctured his gallbladder or large intestine, as well. I don't think so, but there is a chance."

"How will we know?"

Doc gave her a grim look. "We might not. If the wound is deep enough, there can be internal bleeding that can cause more issues. There's also the threat of infection for all of them. The first forty-eight hours or so will be crucial."

Elizabeth looked back at Barbossa and bit her lip with worry. _He's the captain_, she told herself. _He'll be fine_. _He has to be fine._

* * *

><p>Around midnight, Gibbs came in. He noticed how tired she looked as she stared at the captain still unconscious on the cot.<p>

"Elizabeth, you should sleep. Doc's got me on watch for tonight."

She'd helped tend to the other men the last few hours, but she'd mostly remained by the captain's side. She sat beside him and barely took her eyes off of him.

"I'm all right."

"They'll need you rested in the mornin'," Gibbs told her, leaning closer. "I'll get you immediately if anything changes. I promise."

When she lifted her eyes to his and saw his knowing look, Elizabeth nodded and slowly walked out of the room and up to her cabin.

It didn't seem real that the captain was hurt. He wasn't supposed to be hurt; he was supposed to be making her mad with his stubbornness. It had taken Doc some time to get the bleeding to stop, and he'd been afraid that the wound would continue to reopen, so she'd sat by Barbossa's side with her hands pressing on the bandages for almost two hours.

Elizabeth crawled into bed and, while she was exhausted, she didn't feel sleepy. She was not afraid to run the ship, but the thought of being without Barbossa was not something that she was prepared for. She'd already lost too many that she'd cared about – she wasn't sure that she could handle losing another, especially him.

_He'll be fine_, she told herself for the hundredth time. _He'll be just fine._

* * *

><p>Elizabeth woke to a sliver of sunlight shining in through a small break in her window. She yawned and stretched, changing clothes quickly. She stopped by the ship's bow to relieve herself and then hurried to the medical room to check on Barbossa. Gibbs never came for her, so she assumed that meant the captain was still unconscious.<p>

Doc was checking on a new crewmember's wound so Elizabeth quietly walked over and sat by the captain. Along with other medical supplies, food and money, they'd also acquired a few new pirates.

"All right, Easton. Go find Gibbs," Doc instructed the young man. "Just keep the bandage dry and come see me tomorrow morning."

"I will. Thanks, Doc."

After he left, Elizabeth asked, "How's the captain?"

"No change yet," he answered, checking on another crewman. "The wound hasn't reopened, though, and there's no fever so far, so that's good."

She sighed as she stared at Barbossa. "So we wait then."

Doc nodded. "Aye. We wait."

* * *

><p>Though Elizabeth wanted to remain by Barbossa's side until he woke, she knew she could not. She busied herself with logging in everything that had been brought on board from the raid. Thankfully, there was a lot of food and quite a few coins; they could use both.<p>

She met with Gibbs after lunch, and they decided to take shifts as it was up to them to run the _Imperial _until the captain could resume his duties_. _

"- and I'll take the evening shift then," she was saying.

"No, Elizabeth. I'll take the evenin' shift. I be up late, anyway," Gibbs told her. "Have you had a chance to meet the new crewmen yet?"

"I haven't. I did see Easton this morning with Doc, but that's it," she answered. "Have you talked with them?"

"Briefly. They're all with Woodie right now, but I plan to talk with 'em more so I can find out what sorts of experience they have."

"They were willing?"

"Yeah. Didn't like how things were bein' run on their ship, apparently."

"All right," she replied, busy writing notes. "So they're taken care of, I'm logging the booty, you're handling the evening, I'm handling the day – I think most everyone has their assignments at this point and – "

Gibbs' hand covering hers caused Elizabeth to look at him. "He'll be all right, you know," he assured her.

She swallowed and bit her lip. She'd tried to push away her fears that wanted to surface every hour, and keeping busy seemed the best way to do that. Gibbs was the only one that she could let her guard down around, and tears filled her eyes quickly. "I hope so," she said quietly. "I've already lost so many that I – that I cared about. I don't want to lose him, too."

Gibbs smiled and squeezed her hand. "You do care about that ol' wily pirate, don't you?"

Elizabeth nodded with a sad smile as she brushed a finger under her eye to catch a couple stray tears. "I've tried so hard not to," she admitted with a slight shake of her head.

"Don't try not to," Gibbs encouraged. "Will's heart not be the only one in your care. Maybe talkin' to him will help bring him 'round quicker."

"You think so?"

"It can't hurt."

Elizabeth wiped a couple more tears. "How do you know so much about love, Mr. Gibbs?"

The older man's face fell. "I left a beautiful lass standin' on a shoreline many moons ago because I thought I wanted piratin' more," he explained, his expression somber. "And while I won't pretend that I haven't enjoyed bein' at sea, I won't pretend that I haven't regretted my decision to leave her, either."

"But you've traveled to many lands," Elizabeth pointed out, trying to see the good in his decision. "You've had a freedom that others only dream about, and your hands have held many treasures."

Gibbs gave her a knowing look. "One time, a pirate – one that we both know quite well – said that not all treasure was silver and gold."

Elizabeth had no argument for his statement; it was true.

* * *

><p>Doc was asleep on his cot in the corner when Elizabeth sat down by Barbossa later that night. She'd thought about what Gibbs had said all day, and she'd decided that she would talk to the captain in the hopes that it might somehow help.<p>

Nervously, she placed her hand on top of his where it rested by his side. She cast one more glance around the room to make sure that Doc and the other wounded crewmen were asleep before speaking.

"Hector, I – I'm not sure if you can hear me," she began, her voice quiet. "But I thought – I'd hoped – that maybe talking to you would help you wake up. You were hurt, and you've been unconscious for a couple days." She glanced around again, but all was quiet and still. "I just – um – wanted to thank you for coming to get me. I was so unhappy there and so bored. I didn't think I'd ever see you again much less be able to go on another voyage together." She smiled as she thought of what she wanted to say next. "I guess you didn't count on me being so difficult. I don't mean to be. I just didn't anticipate the – " She glanced around again. " – the extra that happened. That night did mean something to me, and I never intended to make you feel otherwise. I just – I don't know what to do. I've never been in this type situation before. And I love Will. I probably always will. But I – " She glanced around the quiet room once more. " – I do have feelings for you, as well, Hector, but I'm so confused as to what to do with them. I'll try to be better, though. For now, you need to wake up and get better because we've got letters waiting for us and British ships to take, and I know you won't want to miss that." She squeezed his hand and swallowed the lump that was trying to form in her throat. "So, you wake up soon, all right? The crew needs you." She cast one last glance around the dark room being lit by one lantern before whispering, "And I need you."

After returning to her cabin, Elizabeth cried herself to sleep.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth woke to knocking on her door. She scrambled from the bed and rushed to see who was there.<p>

"He's awake," Gibbs told her with a smile before she could ask.

Elizabeth, barefoot and rumpled from sleeping in her clothes, ran to the room below as fast as she could, her heart thumping wildly in relief. When she rushed inside, she saw that Barbossa's eyes were open.

"You _are_ awake!" she exclaimed, hurrying to his side. "How do you feel? Doc, is he all right?"

"The wound has not reopened," Doc told her. "It will take a few more days to see if there is any internal damage or bleeding. No signs of infection yet and no fever, either."

"I feel weak," Barbossa said quietly.

"You lost a lot of blood," Elizabeth explained, not hiding her smile at the fact that he was awake and talking to her. "The wound didn't want to stay closed, so I kept pressure on it for two hours."

"That be a long time," Barbossa remarked, surprised to see such concern for him in her eyes.

"I would have sat longer if necessary," she confessed, squeezing his hand. "I'm just glad you're awake. How's everyone else, Doc?"

"A couple returned to their duties this morning," he answered. "I think three more will be able to leave by tonight."

"Should I get some food?" she asked.

"Cook is bringing up some bone broth," Doc answered.

"What about changing bandages?"

"All good for now."

"Help me to the cabin," Barbossa told Elizabeth. "I can lie there as good as here."

"Oh no, Captain, you're staying here," Doc said. "We need to let that wound have just a little more time to seal before moving you."

Barbossa grumbled in response.

Cook came in then with a tray of bowls.

"Perfect timing. Set them here. Grab a bowl and help us feed, all right?" Doc asked Cook.

"Whatever I can do."

Elizabeth got a bowl for Barbossa. She helped adjust the blanket behind his head to lift him up some.

When she started to feed him, he growled, "I can feed meself."

"No, you can't," Doc told him. "You need to keep your arms still."

"I'll help you," Elizabeth offered. When he opened his mouth to protest again, she smirked and said, "Don't be arguin' with me."

Barbossa shook his head. "Ornery strumpet," he mumbled.

"Would you rather me have Ragetti do it?" she asked, one eyebrow lifted.

He frowned and looked away. "No."

"Then open your mouth. The sooner your wound seals, the sooner you can return to your cabin, right Doc?"

"That's right."

* * *

><p>Three days later around midnight, Barbossa was helped to his cabin very slowly. Elizabeth had relinquished running the ship to Gibbs so that she could remain by the captain's side, helping him with each meal, changing his bandages and anything else that he needed. When he napped, she helped Doc take care of the other crewmen. One had taken a turn for the worse with a fever that wouldn't go down, but all of the others had been released by the time Barbossa was.<p>

"I'll check on you three times a day," Doc instructed before he left the cabin. "You are to stay in bed as much as possible for the next few days. No wandering around the ship."

"Aye," Barbossa said with a heavy sigh as Doc closed the door behind him.

As Elizabeth adjusted the pillows behind him, Barbossa had to admit that he'd liked her attention the past few days. She'd looked extremely worried when he'd first seen her, and it had surprised him. Her concern and all that she'd done since his injury spoke volumes to him, and he all but forgot about being irritated with her.

"Yeh don't have to stay," he said when she sat in a nearby chair. "You've done a lot the past few days. I know yeh be tired."

Elizabeth _was_ tired – she was emotionally drained – and she knew it was the middle of the night, but she didn't like the idea of being away from him for too long in case his wound reopened. "I'm fine," she replied with a smile. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine," he answered with a wink.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but she laughed. "You're awful, you know that?"

Barbossa shrugged. "I've been called worse. Can yeh hand me that book on the floor there? I think I'd like to read some."

"Of course," she answered, handing it to him.

As he opened the book to where he'd stopped reading, he decided to test the waters a little. It seemed silly for her to just sit in the chair beside him doing nothing. "Would yeh care to read with me?" he asked.

Elizabeth looked at the book and then at him. "You're already halfway through."

Barbossa gently reached for the blanket and folded it down as an invitation for her. It was a step out onto an already broken limb, but the tree was still standing, so he took a chance. "How about we start over together then?" he purposely asked, knowing that she would understand what he wasn't saying.

Elizabeth stared at him from where she sat, considering his words. He wasn't just asking about the book; it was a white flag of truce being extended to her.

"I think that's a wonderful idea," she answered, walking around the bed to climb in the other side and slip under the covers with him. "What are we reading?"

"Robinson Crusoe", he answered as she got comfortable against the pillows beside him.

Elizabeth had read it a few times, but she'd happily read it again just to be near him. "Sounds great to me."

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, the book lay in his lap as both were asleep.<p>

Barbossa moved enough to cause him pain which made him moan and consequently woke them up.

Elizabeth yawned, blinking her eyes rapidly. "I guess we fell asleep."

Barbossa tossed the book to the floor. "Aye, we did."

"I'm awfully comfortable," she said sleepily, turning over on her side towards him. "And it's really late."

"I just hope me wound don't reopen during the night," he remarked, wondering how she'd respond.

"I'll stay right here if you want me to," she replied, her eyes closing.

"I want yeh to," he said quietly, more than relieved at her reaction.

Elizabeth curled her hand around his bicep. "Good night, Hector."

"Night Elizabeth," he replied before they both fell back to sleep.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth woke first the next morning, and she immediately noticed that neither of them had moved much from the night before. She smiled as she stretched her legs. It was the third night that they'd shared a bed; the first when she'd had a bit too much to drink months ago and the second in Madagascar. What made her happy was that she felt no guilt and no regret.<p>

When she turned over to face him and wrap her hand around his arm again, Barbossa's eyes fluttered open.

"Morning," she greeted with a smile.

He smiled, too. "Won't sure if yeh would still be here," he commented with a yawn. "I be glad that yeh are, though."

"I wasn't planning to leave," she assured him. "And with your wound, I – "

"So the wound be the only reason yeh still be beside me in me bed?" he quickly asked, turning his head to look at her directly.

Elizabeth met his eyes as she gazed at him. The confusion and frustration that she'd felt towards him didn't seem to bother her much at the moment. Perhaps the last few days had helped her straighten out some things in her mind.

"No, the wound is not the only reason," she told him, and she meant it.

Barbossa didn't comment; he didn't need to. Her answer was good enough for him. He just hoped that she'd do it again.

"I be a bit hungry."

"Me too," she agreed. "I'll go see what Cook has going."

When she sat up, Barbossa reached for her hand. He didn't smile, he didn't wink – he just squeezed her hand.

Meeting his eyes with hers, she interpreted the gesture, and she squeezed his hand in return, a look of understanding passing between them before she let go and left the cabin for food.

Elizabeth had a nagging suspicion that she wouldn't be spending many nights in her cabin anymore, and instead of that thought stressing her like it had previously, she looked forward to it.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Hope everyone who celebrates had a peaceful Thanksgiving!<em>**

**_And these two...anyone else get warm fuzzies at the end here? I think we may have FINALLY turned a corner!_**

**_I'm no medical person, so if I'm really off on the medical stuff, let me know. _**

**_I'm always grateful and thankful for reviews! Big hugs to BrunetteAuthorette99, Bloodsired, Black Heart, snapeygirl, PariahMoon, vampgirliegirl and for leaving me some luv last chapter. _**

**_And in case I don't get to post another chapter beforehand, have a GREAT holiday season, whatever you may celebrate!_**


End file.
